


The Other Side of the Sea

by wolfiefics



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Adventures, But he was Obi-Wan's master, Count Dooku - Freeform, End meeting with Yoda, Fighting the Dark Side, Jedi!Obi-Wan, M/M, Mace Windu - Freeform, Merman!Qui-Gon, No Dooku isn't evil, Qui-Gon learns things he never dreamed of before, Strangers to Lovers, Written for the QuiObi Writing Discord, happy ever after, learning about the Force, qui-gon to the rescue, safe to say this is AU, starship wrecked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:26:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24154267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfiefics/pseuds/wolfiefics
Summary: When Obi-Wan Kenobi crashes mysteriously on the water world of Nandia, he meets Qui-Gon of the Clan Jinn, who agrees to help him get rescued. Neither of them predicted the extent of their adventures, that they would fall in love, or that defeating the Dark Side was the key to their future.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 80
Kudos: 161





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Orientalld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orientalld/gifts).



> I have never, ever, felt the urge to write a mermaid tale. No pun intended. Mermaids and mermen were never a mythological/cryptozoological thing of interest to me. I mean, it’s a neat concept, half human-half fish, but I’d rather be on a Pegasus or trading riddles with a sphinx, even though I suck at riddles. But there was an artist the QuiObi discord kept linking too, with gorgeous art, not only of Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan but my other OTP of Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes from Marvel. I’d never subscribed to anyone on Patreon before but I was so in love the with the art, I committed. Orientalld had an art piece for Mer-May, of merman!Qui-Gon and shipwrecked!Obi-Wan that I FELL IN LOVE WITH. This story just rushed out of me because of it. She does have a [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/orientalld), [Twitter](https://twitter.com/orientalld) and this her link on[ Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/Orntlld) with reasonable subscription rates as low as $3 a month, all with gorgeous art of varying OTPs and subject matter. Each tier of subscription, of course, gets you more goodies. ;) So I want to thank this talented artist for inspiring me to write something I never in a million years thought I’d write…and I enjoyed the HECK out of it!
> 
> Remember kudos are great, comments are better. Give your fan author the same appreciation you do your fan artist. We work hard too! Honest critique is welcome; flames will be put out with a fire extinguisher and the ashes swept under the rug. Join me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/wolfiefics) as well!

And now have I put in here, as thou seest, with ship and crew, while sailing over the wine-dark sea to men of strange speech.. – Homer _The Illiad_ Part of Book 1, line 180.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was losing control. Not of his emotions, oh no, he had fine control over them. There was clearly alarm, a hint of panic, and the resolution that he was not going to die. With the ship, however, there was not so much control.

Once he broke the atmosphere the downward trajectory turned into a nauseating spiral nose-dive. No matter what he did, he couldn’t regain control of anything. Nandia was a water world with a few island chains that were mostly volcanic, and making a controlled crash was not a good option, even if he could figure out how to do that.

Fighting with all he could, and liberal manipulation of the Force, Obi-Wan managed to level out the nose-dive somewhat. Enough, hopefully, that hitting the water wouldn’t completely disintegrate the ship. It was going to hurt, but it would hopefully hurt less.

Then the ship hit something. The descent was dramatically slowed until, impossibly, it was all but gently settled on the pristine blue ocean stretching out his view window as far as he could see.

Obi-Wan sat there for a dumbfounded minute, unable to comprehend just what _exactly_ happened. The inundation of water seeping in at his feet, though, woke him from his amazed stupor and got him moving. The ship was made for space travel, not water. He needed to gather supplies and get out before he sunk with the ship.

He thanked whatever Gods were watching over him at the moment that he was alone. All he had to worry about was himself.

He grabbed his rucksack from behind his pilot’s chair and headed for the small galley, term used loosely. He shoved everything that could be remotely considered edible into it. He then went to the small side room near the exit and dug around for anything that could possibly keep him afloat when exhaustion of constantly treading water and swimming kicked in. Jedi or not, he could still drown.

While it was too much to hope for a raft, there was, strangely, a life preserver jacket. He buckled himself into it and popped open the hatch, water lapping the edge. Thankful that Jedi rucksacks were damned near indestructible and thus waterproof, he dove into the sparkling blue water. Surfacing, he shoved his copper hair out of his face and began to swim. As he did so, he considered what information he knew of Nandia.

Not a member of the Galactic Republic, Nandia did have sentient life. They lived in deep, underwater cities, not exactly primitive but it wasn’t like they needed energy weapons, droids or starships. Obi-Wan knew they were territorial and clannish, but not given to much war and bloodshed due to distance between settlements. It was a big planet, with lots of ocean to share. What reproduction was like or birthrates, Obi-Wan didn’t know, but apparently not high enough that there were skirmishes over territory.

Nandia had an unusual status within the Republic, a kind of protected state given to planets with rare and endangered species. The oceans were salty and there was plenty of sea life to harvest, so it would be safe to assume there would be contention for exploitation. Yet there wasn’t. Everyone seemed content to just leave Nandia alone, ignored and forgotten. While that was ideal for the Nandians, it wasn’t going to help Obi-Wan much in terms of a potential rescue.

Obi-Wan had no idea how to contact any Nandians. Once the dizziness from the spiraling entrance faded, he’d not glimpsed anything resembling land whatsoever. What sort of sea life he would be dealing with, Obi-Wan knew even less. It was safe to say, however, with his recent luck it was liable to be predatory. His lightsaber would be of limited use and, if used consistently, would eventually short out from being water-logged.

‘I have a bad feeling about this,’ he thought to himself but he continued to swim. He paused a moment and looked behind him at the ship. It was almost completely submerged. He was well and truly stranded.

‘A bad, bad feeling,’ he amended and began to swim once more.

* * *

Qui-Gon watched the stranger swim on the water. The being didn’t look like one of the People. He had no fins or tail, the bottom of his body split and flailing about in the water as his arms propelled him forward. He wore…something…over his body, covering nearly all of it. The metal monster he’d arrived in was sinking beneath the surface. Temporary land? But he’d come from the sky.

Qui-Gon followed the stranger, out of curiosity and also because he knew this stranger would not survive the ocean without help. Qui-Gon had heard stories from the elders of people who came from the stars, who could live on the bits of land jutting out from the massive oceans. They didn’t breathe water and used a flickering heat to warm their food. It had all seemed fantastical to Qui-Gon, but here he was, watching one of these beings in the flesh.

The universe was indeed an amazing place.

Qui-Gon dove deep enough that he remained full immersed yet shallow enough he could follow the stranger’s progress. Such an ungainly body. Awkward and almost clumsy in the water. All that splashing around. The stranger was going to attract predators doing that.

That thought arrested Qui-Gon a moment. He couldn’t allow the stranger to be eaten. The elders said the People had pledged to help anyone from the stars who came. In return they would be protected from those from the stars who would harm them. Qui-Gon was obliged by that promise to help this being.

He needed to find out how to communicate. There was an outcropping of rocks the stranger could go to and be out of the water but how it would eat or do anything else Qui-Gon had not the slightest notion. Yes, he should approach, make friendly overtures, get the stranger out of the water before it got eaten by something Qui-Gon couldn’t protect it from.

The stranger stopped its odd swimming motions, legs swishing about to maintain buoyancy. Now was the time, Qui-Gon decided, and he went forward with a powerful swish of his tail. He decided to appear before the stranger. He could breathe above water, no problem, but somehow he doubted the stranger would be able to breathe under it.

With brave determination he maneuvered himself in front of the stranger’s position and broke through the ocean’s surface. He needed to look friendly, helpful, non-threatening. He wanted to make a good impression.

* * *

Obi-Wan’s Force sense was going haywire. There was something in his immediate vicinity but he couldn’t gauge if it was friend or foe. He tread water, scouring the horizon in all directions in a vain hope of something even remotely resembling land. He looked over his shoulder; the ship was entirely submerged. Nothing showed. When he faced forward, he gave a start.

There was a man staring at him!

His hand went to his lightsaber clipped securely to his belt, even as he evaluated the situation. The man wasn’t making any threatening moves, with only head and neck bobbing above the water. Long brown hair floated on top of the water and his eyes were as blue as everything else on this planet.

The Republic really needed to assign waterproof protocol droids for anyone even passing through the Nandia system.

“Hello,” he ventured in a friendly tone.

The man’s head tipped to the side inquiringly. Whoever he was he didn’t speak Standard. This was going to be a problem.

“You couldn’t possibly point me in the direction of land?” Obi-Wan asked hopefully.

The man blinked those deep blue eyes at him but didn’t respond.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and muttered, “Right.” One direction was as good as another, so he twisted to his left and began to swim.

He’d gone four strokes before the man appeared in front of him, blocking his way. Broad, naked shoulders were now apparent, making Obi-Wan’s mouth go dry. What he could see, the skin was flawless and sunkissed. ‘By all the little gods,’ he berated himself, ‘what is _wrong_ with you?’

“Wrong direction?” he noted. He pointed over his shoulder. “Should I go that way?”

The man frowned in concentration and a huge blue-green tail breeched the water, shimmering and glinting in the sunshine, dazzling Obi-Wan’s eyes. The man dove, tail flicking above water and then disappearing entirely. Obi-Wan looked around frantically, wondering if he was about to be attacked and from which direction, when there was a splash behind him. He turned and there was the man, long muscular arm raised and pointing.

“Right then. I’m trusting you, my friend,” Obi-Wan muttered and began to swim in the direction the Nandian pointed.

He swam, and he swam, and he swam. He tread water to rest every once in awhile but it was a poor substitute to actual rest. It didn’t help he’d been up 48 Standard hours before this on a grueling mission of failed peace keeping and running for his life. He’d barely left the planet alive. Now Obi-Wan was stretching his already thin reserves to the breaking point. If he was honest with himself, he wasn’t sure how much more he could go on.

His guide, for lack of a better word, kept pace with him, a curious expression on his face every time Obi-Wan caught a glimpse of him. Had this Nandian never seen an off-worlder? Likely not. Obi-Wan was as much a strange entity to him as he was to Obi-Wan.

Finally, Obi-Wan’s limits were reached. His arms and legs were lead weights, his breathing was erratic, and he desperately wanted to just sleep.

“Please,” he called out and the man looked back at him. “I’m tired,” Obi-Wan told him with little hope of being understood. “I can’t go anymore. I need food and sleep.”

The man blinked at him, head tilted again consideringly. Obi-Wan stretched out his Force sense and tapped into the man’s innate presence there, sending through his exhaustion and hunger, hoping it would be received and understood.

Dawning realization flickered over the Nandian’s face and strong arms enveloped Obi-Wan. Instinctually, Obi-Wan relaxed. It took some odd hand gestures before Obi-Wan realized the Nandian wanted Obi-Wan to come around behind him and grip his shoulders. Obi-Wan did so and soon the powerful tail pumped, the water swirling around Obi-Wan’s legs and they were speeding through the water with grace and ease.

Obi-Wan wanted to relax but knew he couldn’t. The Nandian obviously realized Obi-Wan needed land and was taking him there. How far it was though, Obi-Wan couldn’t guess. The dangers ahead he couldn’t guess either.

Gods, he was so tired.

* * *

The stranger, and Qui-Gon was certain now it was a he, was holding onto his shoulders with a strong, calloused grip. Whatever he encased his body with was rough against Qui-Gon’s skin and scales but was obviously a separate entity. Qui-Gon had no word for it.

There was a presence in the stranger, it reached out to Qui-Gon and seemed to communicate for him. Qui-Gon understood clearly the off-worlder’s exhaustion and hunger. Now that Qui-Gon was doing the bulk of the swimming they would make better time to the rocks so the stranger could rest.

It was relative safety, at least, and then Qui-Gon could go and fetch the elders, tell them what he’d found and let them decide what was to be done with the stranger.

The off-worlder was strangely beautiful, though, Qui-Gon mused to himself. His hair was a color similar to a sunset and his eyes a changeling color a bit like the sea around them when it was stormy. His body was fit, presumably, considering the amount of energy he’d used splashing about in that odd swimming manner. Trim, lithe but ungainly in the water, no doubt he was not so on land.

Off-worlders. So strange.

Yet very intriguing. Very, very intriguing.

The stranger’s grip on his shoulders eased and then slipped. Qui-Gon twisted in a flash and caught him before he sank beneath the surface of the ocean. Exhaustion had caught up. The stranger was still conscious but severely weakened. He spoke, but Qui-Gon had no idea what he said. That presence within the off-worlder seemed apologetic.

Qui-Gon could swim backward, though it was awkward, but he did so, clasping the stranger tight in his arms and keeping his head above water. The rocks weren’t far now. Dark was setting in also. This was not a good time for someone as helpless as his off-worlder to be in the water.

Qui-Gon sped up his swim.

* * *

Obi-Wan struggled to stay awake. He didn’t understand why he felt so weak. He’d gone longer with no sleep and food. He had no injuries that he could account for. Was there something in the Nandian atmosphere he was reacting to? His mind was sluggish, he couldn’t think.

The rhythmic movement of his Nandian protector lulled him into a trance-like state, almost like meditation. How long had it been since he’d done _that_? Therefore, it was jarring when the rhythm stopped. He became more alert and looked up.

There were rocks right in front of him, jutting out. Not much room on them, admittedly, but the most wondrous thing Obi-Wan had seen since crashing on this planet. What little energy he’d managed to recoup he used to climb on the rock ledge, with the Nandian’s support, and just collapsed.

There was an expectation in the air and he opened his eyes. The Nandian, handsome face screwed up in an earnest expression, was watching him. The sun was setting, the air still warm but for how long Obi-Wan didn’t know. Soaked to the bone as he was, if it turned cold, he was going to be miserable.

Then the Nandian spoke for the first time.

It was lilting, musical even though guttural. The words were formulated similarly in vocal standards as many species in the galaxy. There was a lot of gesturing accompanying the speech, pointing down to the watery depths or sweeping about to the endless horizon in all directions.

“I’ll stay here,” Obi-Wan replied, though he didn’t know if that was what was being relayed. “I’ll sleep, I have a little bit of food. Do what you need to do, just come back, okay?”

The Nandian let out a frustrated huff and dove, disappearing beneath the waves and leaving Obi-Wan completely alone. He stretched out his senses but felt nothing dangerous nearby. That could change, admittedly, but at this point Obi-Wan didn’t think he cared.

He needed sleep. He needed food. He’d make plans on what to do after those needs were met. Presumably his Nandian savior was going for assistance from his people. Surely there was someone who knew how to speak with off-worlders. Treaties had been negotiated and assurances of protection made.

Obi-Wan stretched out best he could on his meager land, used the slippery-wet rucksack for a pillow and went into a light sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Qui-Gon made it to his village and swam straight for the Council of Elders.

Ru-Non was standing guard, his spear sharp but in a non-threatening position. “How goes, Qui-Gon?” the guard asked congenially.

“An off-worlder is stranded above,” Qui-Gon told him hurriedly. “I must speak with the elders.”

Ru-Non’s mouth fell open and a stream of bubbled air escaped. “What?” he asked faintly.

Qui-Gon scowled at him. “You heard me. We must hurry. He is not like us, the off-worlder. He was strangely exhausted and hungry. I left him on some rocks to rest out of the water. The Elders tell us we are to help all off-worlders.”

Ru-Non gathered himself, waved a hand at Qui-Gon to stay where he was and darted within the Council Chambers. The building was made of dead coral and volcanic rock, shaped and molded by artisans long ago into beautiful and natural designs. Many of their structures were the same, be they public or private.

Run-Non’s head whipped out the door and he barked nervously, “Come.”

Qui-Gon entered with no little trepidation. He was often before the council for being in one scrape or another, even as a youngling. His curiosity, or as the council said nosiness, often got him into trouble. Would helping an off-worlder bring the same censure?

The Council members were in a semi-circle, floating gently in the currents, all eyes on Qui-Gon as he entered and came to a stop in the center of the room. Qui-Gon tilted his head to each of the six elders in a respectful manner and waited for the questioning.

“Species?” asked one.

“I do not know, Councillor,” Qui-Gon said truthfully. “Where tail fins would be, it is split but jointed.”

“Did it speak?” asked another.

“I believe the off-worlder is male, and yes, he spoke to me.” Here Qui-Gon hesitated. No one liked him to mention his odd otherworldly senses but felt it should be mentioned now. “He reached out to me, into me, conveying exhaustion and hunger. I had to help him to some rocks, he’d become so weak.”

Three of the council pursed their lips at Qui-Gon’s words and he resisted the urge to flinch.

“Transportation?”

“It has a sunk. It looks nothing like in our archive information but I believe it did come from the stars. I think, perhaps, they have progressed in their technologies,” Qui-Gon said truthfully.

“Was he armed?” barked the only female on the council.

“Possibly?” Qui-Gon frowned at that. “He made no threatening gestures toward me and seemed grateful for my help. He did not struggle or try to harm.”

“Why did you not return immediately?” demanded the first elder.

“I saw him leave his ship,” Qui-Gon confessed. “It is a feeding area for rampurges. I felt watching over him and then giving him aid a more prudent course of action.”

Expressions on various faces turned more understanding at that. Rampurges were scavengers, hunting the weak or solitary. They were opportunists. The off-worlder would have been easy prey. However, rampurges gathered in packs during mating season, as it currently was. Yes, Qui-Gon’s justification was acceptable.

“Our only speaker of their standard language is dead. It has been so long since we’d seen or heard of an off-worlder, no one learned their language.” The head of the council finally spoke, his tone bland and congenial. “We have no way to communicate. Your,” and here he paused pointedly, “odd gift in feeling what he feels will be helpful.”

Qui-Gon waited. There would be more.

“Night falls above us. If he is indeed as tired as you state, we have time to make provisions for him. You will go, rest, eat, and return after morning meal to hear what we wish of you, Qui-Gon.”

Qui-Gon tilted his head in acknowledgment, a beat of excitement coursing through him. He would see the off-worlder again. He would be instrumental in communication and opening dialogues of diplomacy with the off-worlder. Was this why he was born with his strange gift? It was a heady thought.

He left the council building, Ru-Non looking at him curiously. Qui-Gon only shook his head and swam away to his own family home.

He was all that was left. His parents were dead and he had no siblings. No female wished to mate with him because of his strange gift. And to be honest, none of the females were even remotely appealing. He knew he should make the effort, build a family, promote his bloodline but he really didn’t care. While the solitude wore him down sometimes, he figured it would be worse paired with someone he didn’t care for at all.

His mind’s eye flashed to the stranger, his soft hair brushing Qui-Gon’s chest, the beard of a bit darker hue bristly like Qui-Gon’s own. Despite the obvious physiological differences, they had similarities as well. Qui-Gon longed to know more. The stories of off-worlders had entranced him since he was a youngling, begging his father to tell him stories, nagging the archivist to let him read the archives, and occasionally badgering the elders for tidbits as well. He had been indulged up to a point, but as he grew older and his fascination did not abate, he had been gently told to cease. That there were other, more important things to worry about than off-worlders.

And now there was one stranded in their ocean. Qui-Gon would be the key to understand the off-worlder’s needs and hopefully offer assistance in finding him a way back to where he belonged.

Qui-Gon ate and then relaxed in the currents of his home, certain he wouldn’t fall asleep from the exhilaration. He was wrong. Sleep came easily, his dreams fantastical, full of swords like colored lightning and his off-worlder laughing and smiling at him.

* * *

Obi-Wan woke with the dawn. Well, his last wake up was with the dawn. He’d woken twice during the night, once to strip off his sodden clothes as they became extremely uncomfortable and once to eat a nutrient bar and sip from his canteen of water.

As the sun gave magnificent show for its one-man audience, Obi-Wan pondered on what the hell he was going to do to get off this planet. In his haste to flee the sinking ship, grabbing a comm unit of any kind never even occurred to him. That was stupid. Even a basic palm comm had a bit of range to it. Anyone traveling through the Nandian system would pick it up. Assuming, of course, someone was travelling through the Nandian system as long as the comm unit had power.

Would his Nandian guide’s people have some sort of communication device? Possible, maybe even probable. Obi-Wan knew only barebones basics about this planet and the history of the diplomatic negotiations done with the natives. He did have the impression it was long before he was even born. Probably only Master Yoda knew anything about it anymore. A random Wookie, perhaps.

Which didn’t really help his current situation. All he could do is hope the Nandian returned and the two of them could figure out some way of communicating. Obi-Wan needed more supplies. This rock ledge was great for the moment, but it was hardly going to be of use to him whatsoever in the future. If he could figure out how, he could catch a fish and eat it raw if he had too, but he’d rather not. Some cultures considered raw fish a delicacy, but Obi-Wan did not.

The sun began to rise fully above the horizon and the winds began to warm once more. It hadn’t been terribly cold half-naked overnight, much to Obi-Wan’s relief, but he didn’t know the planet’s weather patterns or seasons. He wasn’t exactly sure what part of the planet he’d crashed on. Equator? Upper or lower hemisphere?

He thought about eating another nutrient bar and then discarded the notion. He needed to ration everything. So, he sat, watched the still waters around him, and wondered when his native help would return.

How long he sat there, just idly watching everything around him and not doing much in the way of thinking, he didn’t know. In the distance, something dark crested the water, but not coming in his direction. He kept an eye on it all the same. It looked big, whatever it was.

He was so focused on that he jumped out of his skin when a hand brushed his pant leg. He jerked his gaze down and saw his Nandian smiling at him.

“Thank the Force,” Obi-Wan breathed. Then he blinked when three more Nandians broke the surface. Two looked elderly, with graying or white hair drifting about their shoulders, their faces lined, eyes aged and wise. The fourth looked to be his Nandian’s age, strong, and armed with a spear of some sort. It looked wicked sharp and was barbed. All were obviously male.

He sent out a tendril in the Force of inquiry and hope. His Nandian turned to the others and spoke, rapidfire and unintelligible. A moment later, in the Force, was a returned sense of good tidings and welcome.

His Nandian was Force sensitive! How had he not picked up on that?

Obi-Wan quickly realized that these brush of feelings through the Force was the only means he had of communication with the Nandians now surrounding his rock ledge. Basic feelings and sensations couldn’t communicate anything in depth, but it was all he had, so it was time to put his vaunted cleverness to work.

He risked a smile at the Nandians around him, opened his rucksack and drew out his water canteen. He sipped it and then held it out. It was passed around with much sniffing, and then a long discussion after Obi-Wan retrieved it. There was a sense of encouragement in the Force.

There were nods all around and Obi-Wan knew they understood he needed fresh water to survive. The salt water all around him would not suffice. He then drew out a nutrient bar. He had only nine left but he unwrapped one, tore it in half and again handed it off after taking a small nibble. More sniffing and one curious bite that made the Nandian elder who chanced it grimace in disgust, but once more understanding was passed through the Force. They knew he needed food.

How to let them know he needed to communicate off-planet?

Obi-Wan began to gesture to the sky, making flying motions with his hands, miming crashing in the water, and swimming. The expressions ranged from disconcertion to amusement. He wasn’t getting through. He tapped his throat and said, “I need to speak up there,” and pointed upward.

Consternation flew through the group but Obi-Wan focused on his Nandian. Those deep blue eyes, so expressive, was confused. Confusion trembled along the Force and Obi-Wan focused his mind on a picture of a communications array. He wasn’t psychic, not even remotely close to it. His bonds had always been rudimentary, enough to get the job done, but nothing complex.

The discussion died down and everyone looked at him expectantly. He blew out a frustrated breath. He needed to think on that concept. Perhaps the more immediate need for a larger bit of land was more doable.

He gestured to the rock he sat on and made a motion of expansion. He sent through the Force his discomfort on the unforgiving stone ledge, but thankfulness he had it. His Nandian frowned a moment and then those blue eyes lit up like the bluest lightsaber and he turned to his companions. More rapidly spoken explanation and then another full-on discussion ensued. Obi-Wan waited.

His Nandian plucked at Obi-Wan’s mostly dry clothes and sent through the Force a sense of urgency. Obi-Wan began to get dressed. He couldn’t help himself, he was blushing, as the Nandians were watching him in rapt fascination. His clothes were still uncomfortable, now stiff from the dried salt water that was almost like a harsh starch. Properly dressed and lightsaber firmly clipped to his belt, Obi-Wan shoved everything back in the rucksack and closed it tightly.

His Nandian gestured for him to enter the water once more and Obi-Wan, with a grimace, did so. Strong hands buoyed him, gingerly brushing against his clothing as if curiously checking it out. Since none of them seemed to have clothes on the upper portion of their bodies, they probably didn’t have the foggiest notion of what clothes were, Obi-Wan reasoned. His life preserver vest helped him stay afloat and while he was better rested, he was still tired. It wouldn’t take long to exhaust himself once again.

Obi-Wan sent through the Force that he was still tired and was maneuvered behind his Nandian to ride piggy-back like they’d done yesterday. The group, as one unit, began to swim away from Obi-Wan’s temporary refuge.

His Nandian was a handsome devil, Obi-Wan thought idly to himself. And powerful, as he showed little signs of exhaustion swimming like they were and carrying Obi-Wan’s not inconsiderable weight to boot. Time slipped away; it could have one hour or five, he had no idea. There was just endless ocean and four Nandians with him. They would occasionally pause and Obi-Wan would look around. Some sea life was around them, but whether they were threatening or dangerous, Obi-Wan didn’t know. He had to trust these people; he had no other choice.

At first Obi-Wan thought he was hallucinating. Were those birds? He looked around blearily and sure enough, circling in the sky were large white birds of some kind. One dove at the water and came up with a fish. They weren’t too terribly large and didn’t look like they would find humans remotely tasty. That was fine with Obi-Wan.

Birds, though, meant land nearby but he could make out nothing. Still just endless sea. He allowed himself to drowse once more, now lulled by the bird calls as well as the swish of tail fins in the water.

He jerked back to alertness when the swimming stopped. There before him was a small island, with a long sandy beach and a bit of treeline and shrubs. Obi-Wan wondered why the Nandians stopped but then realized this was as far as they could go without being stranded. He was going to have to finish on his own.

He slipped off his Nandian companion and swam until he hit a sandbar. He stood up on shaky legs and turned to face the Nandians. He gave a wave of acknowledgment which was bewilderingly returned. Three heads disappeared beneath the waves but his Nandian remained. Obi-Wan dumped his rucksack, belt and lightsaber, pulled off his waterlogged boots and waded out as far as he dared. His Nandian approached as well but there was still a bit of distance between them.

Obi-Wan sent a wave of thankfulness through the Force and received reassurance in return. Obi-Wan understood this was just temporary. It would help his short-term needs but as it was hard for the Nandians to be near him here, he would eventually have to be moved. That was fine. He was Jedi. Uncomfortable and screwed over was part of the job.

His Nandian seemed to hesitate but gave a wave of his own before he too dove beneath the surface and disappeared. Obi-Wan waited to see if he’d resurface but he never did. Obi-Wan was once again alone. It was time to explore where they had brought him. He needed shelter, water and food, though not precisely in that order.

It looked like paradise, but looks could be deceiving, Obi-Wan knew all too well. He would make do, however, until it was time to leave. He stretched his Force senses as much as he could, knowing it would be the only warning of visitors he would get.

He gathered his removed items, and sloshed his way from the sandbar to the beach, collapsing in a heap. He rested a moment and then stripped to his skin, small clothes and all. Modesty be damned, he was alone. It didn’t matter.

Then he slept.

* * *

Qui-Gon returned to the village a minor celebrity. The People swarmed him as he came into view, questions peppering him and hands brushing and patting him. Never had he gotten such positive attention.

It was a bit nerve wracking.

The Elders floated nearby, watching the furor, and Qui-Gon was conscious of their gaze. He was uncomfortable with the attention and longed to disappear into his coral home to think about his off-worlder, how handsome he was, what it felt like to have his body pressed against Qui-Gon’s, so trusting.

“Qui-Gon!” The head elder’s voice boomed through the cacophony of people talking to him, silencing the chatter immediately. “Please approach.”

Qui-Gon swam forward, his nervousness escalating, brushing off the occasional hand touching him. He tilted his head respectfully to the assembled elders.

“You seem to have a bond with the off-worlder,” the head elder said thoughtfully. “Your strange gift is shared by him. Where we have left him is only temporary assistance. You must take him through the Tergitent Drift. There is an island there that previous off-worlders left communication devices. He can speak with his people and get help.”

The People were silent, expectant. Qui-Gon felt uneasy. The Tergitent Drift could be dangerous for one alone, never mind with a being so dependent upon you for survival. It would be hard swimming to get there, through dangerous waters, and the Drift itself…

Qui-Gon tipped up his chin. “I will help the off-worlder,” he said with a bravery he didn’t exactly feel. “Or die trying.”

The head elder gave one tilt of his head and Ru-Non came forward, carrying a small, wrapped…something. He handed it to Qui-Gon with solemnity. Qui-Gon unwrapped it and stared at the item bemusedly.

“An off-worlder who came before carried this weapon,” the female elder told him. “It works underwater but barely. To show good faith to your off-worlder, you will return it. Perhaps it will offer him reassurance that we will do our best to provide for his needs and find the help he requires to go back to the stars.”

Qui-Gon perused the cylindrical object, shorter than the length of his lower arm. It was of a hard metal he’d never see before, with little raised nubs like outgrowths. He fiddled with one and it compressed, a beam of boiling energy springing forth from one end, an eerie red glow. Qui-Gon hastily pressed the nub again causing the beam of light to retract or dissipate, it was hard to tell.

“I will take it to him.” Qui-Gon hesitated. “The journey to the Drift is arduous. How will the off-worlder eat? He seems to consume fresh water as well for sustenance. Where will he rest? Where will _I_ rest? I don’t know the way…” His questions faded when the head elder raised a staying hand.

“We will give you the knowledge to make the journey,” the head elder told him with no little compassion. “We know it is much to ask of you, Qui-Gon. Long have you been a misunderstood outsider among your people. We know of your loneliness and isolation. Though it has grieved us, we have been unable to find a way to help you. This off-worlder-“ Here the head elder paused, as if weighing his words. “There is something between you, something we, I, cannot understand. This is your opportunity, Qui-Gon, to learn what Fate made you to be, your true purpose.”

Qui-Gon lowered his head shamefully. He never wanted to be a burden to his people. He learned to hunt, to fight as a warrior against raiders clans and predators of the sea, and construct damaged homes and buildings as needed. He only wanted to be of service to his people but his…gift…always seemed to alienate him. The head elder was right. There was something between Qui-Gon and the off-worlder. This was his chance to learn what his gift might be.

He started at a firm hand on his shoulder and he looked up into the pale blue eyes of the most aged one of their clan. “There is no shame in what you are, Qui-Gon,” the elder told him gently. “I deeply regret if we have made it seem so. Tonight, we will conduct a ritual. It will give you the information you need to brave the Drift and help this off-worlder as we agreed with those who came from the stars. Go now, rest. You had a hard swim with a heavy burden. Your strength, compassion, skills and knowledge will be pushed to the test. Yi-Lin, find Qui-Gon a hearty meal. Once he has retired, he is not to be disturbed until this evening.”

The People all clamored their agreement and young Yi-Lin swam off to gather food for Qui-Gon. Once the food was in hand, Qui-Gon nodded to the young female in thanks and swam to his home. Alone as ordered.

He ate, ravenous, idly wondering if his off-worlder had found sustenance on that island they left him on. Exhausted, as the elder noted, Qui-Gon drifted into sleep, dreaming of eyes neither blue nor green and hair like an ocean sunset.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know jack squat about oceanography. I live landlocked in the Great Plains region of the United States. I've only seen the Gulf of Mexico from two vantage points in my entire nearly 50 years of life. No ocean whatsoever. The idea of the drift came from a vague recollection of turtles surfing one in Disney's Finding Nemo. I did some half-hearted snooping on Google for oceanography information but I had no CLUE what it was saying. So I'm using what little I did understand and making up the rest. So apologies to those who know better. Perhaps I can be excused a bit by stating there are no continents on Nandia to generate a large drift current on the planet. No clue. But it sounds good to me. LOL! I'm an ignorant landlubber with a not-sorry love of pirate music from my local Renaissance Faire pirate singing group. So maybe I should add the tag "hand-wavy ocean mechanics"? If so, let me know. I will add if needs be.


	3. Chapter 3

Obi-Wan woke as the sun was setting. He felt better refreshed but hunger was gnawing at him. He ate a nutrient bar and sipped a bit of water. It wasn’t enough, but he would have to make do. Hunger somewhat slaked and relieving his body of waste, burying it in the sand, he decided to explore the island he’d been left on.

It wasn’t huge, by any stretch of the imagination. A few trees of the palm variety smattered the island, such as it was, but they bore no fruit or anything else edible. The shrubs scattered about were scraggly and thin. Obi-Wan squeezed a leaf, wondering if the leaves were edible, and the leaf’s puny excrement wafted a distinctly bitter smell to his nose. Probably not edible.

Stepping further inland, for lack of a better word, he was startled to find a small pool of water. He cupped his hands and brought up some to sniff. No hint of salt. He dribbled some in his mouth. Sweet and fresh as any of the finest springs in the galaxy. He filled his canteen and drank deeply. No food, but the water helped.

It took him all of fifteen minutes to completely walk the length of the island. It was actually more of a large sandbar with a bit of life than anything else. But it was better than a hard rock ledge in the middle of a vast ocean. It would more than do for now.

Darkness was falling and the sea birds came to roost in the trees. For a moment Obi-Wan wondered if he could catch one, find a way to start a fire, and cook it. He evaluated the situation and even tried to climb one of the trees where a host of birds roosted in the upper, wide leafed branches, to no avail. He couldn’t get a good purchase. Unless one of the birds came to ground level, Obi-Wan was out of luck.

Fish it was then.

The shallows between the sandbar and the island was teeming with silver-glinting fish in the planet’s three moons. Obi-Wan doubted darkness really descended completely on this planet, as the moons were not in synch and in varying states of fullness. He’d been too exhausted before to appreciate them. With lightning fast reflexes of a highly trained Jedi knight, Obi-Wan swiped several fish out of the water and onto the shore far enough in that they couldn’t flop their way back to the water.

He broke up some bushes and dried debris and, using his lightsaber, lit a fire. He jury-rigged a roasting stick, grimaced as he had to hand-gut the fish, but was soon roasting a couple over the flames. Obi-Wan resolved that once he’d returned to Coruscant he would stress that all padawans were to learn primitive survival techniques, including hand-gutting a fish.

“Primitive doesn’t mean stupid,” as Obi-Wan’s master often said.

The fish was tasty, but whether it was because Obi-Wan was extremely hungry or they were just tasty no matter what, the Jedi didn’t know or care. He ate until he was fit to burst and then relaxed by the fire, staring up at the stars.

The sky above him wasn’t familiar. He thought he could pin point moving objects, maybe ships, maybe something cosmic. If they were ships, he had no way of contacting them, so it didn’t matter. If something cosmic, it was negligible enough to not be noted on any star charts or system information.

Obi-Wan turned his thoughts to how he got stranded to begin with. He’d dropped suddenly out of hyper space. As he’d reviewed the computer system to discover the reason why, his engines failed. Then everything else. As Obi-Wan worked frantically to at least get environmental systems up and running before his oxygen ran out, something pushed his little ship, hard, sending it careening into the gravitational pull of Nandia. Obi-Wan had seen nothing, no other ships, but the Force had screamed out a warning a bare moment before the shove happened.

Obi-Wan barely managed to keep the ship’s nose up through entry into the atmosphere, but after that, it had been all downhill. Thankfully, he’d been able to control the crash somewhat. What air draft he’d hit to completely disrupt his freefall, he didn’t know. And thank all the gods that look over Jedi, his Nandian had been nearby for a rescue.

His Nandian. Obi-Wan turned his thoughts towards the…merman, for lack of a better term. He was handsome, with his long brown hair with a hint of gray streaking through it, a beard not unlike Obi-Wan’s and such blue eyes as Obi-Wan had never seen. His body was muscular and fit, Obi-Wan remembered with a bit of a blush. No ornamentation anywhere, however. Did the sea people of Nandia have no means to make decorations for status or class? Did they _have_ status or class? What was the social structure of the Nandians? Undoubtedly his Nandian was strong and daring, being out in the ocean by himself and approaching Obi-Wan as fearlessly as he had done. A warrior then? Scout? Hunter? The possibilities were endless and Obi-Wan would make himself dizzy trying to come up with one.

And the merman was Force sensitive. Obi-Wan had never heard of anyone on this planet with Force sensitivity. It might be known, but a moot point. Nandians weren’t like the Mon Calamarians, who could live outside of water. It seemed that though Nandians could breathe air and water, like a Mon Calmarian, their physical forms restricted them to a water-based environment.

His Nandian’s bluish-green iridescent tail was beautiful. The color reminded Obi-Wan a bit of his own eyes as seen in his refresher mirror every morning. Hell, _everything_ about his Nandian was beautiful. And intriguing.

Obi-Wan turned his thoughts to how he could further communicate his needs. This island would do for now but it was temporary at best with no food beyond fish. His body needed more than that without risking nutritional illness. He would eventually exhaust the fresh water and dead undergrowth for fire fuel as well. His dependence upon the Nandians rankled a bit. Obi-Wan should have done better research on his travel route in case things went wrong. That his situation had never happened before that he’d ever heard of was a moot point. A Jedi was ready for anything.

The night deepened and Obi-Wan grew drowsy again. He needed rest for whatever the morning brought, be it more fishing or perhaps being taken somewhere else. He threw more dead branches on the fire and made sure his clothing was nearby to dry but not close enough to catch fire. He then curled up, head pillowed on hands, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Qui-Gon’s head was killing him. He clutched at it, moaning in pain, as the elders continued their interminable chanting. He wanted to shout at them to shut up, to stop the noise, but they _had_ told him the ritual would cause discomfort. Huge understatement.

It was like his mind was expanding. Things he’d never known before he now knew. His thoughts flashed to the off-worlder’s last speech and he translated it as “I need to speak up there”. How Qui-Gon knew this he didn’t understand. Instinctual information of the Drift filtered through his mind as well, telling him the dangers inherent there and ways to protect himself and the off-worlder.

And still the damnable chanting went on. And on. And on.

Qui-Gon’s muscles gave in, his body sagging in the slight current of the village. His arms felt weighted and the thought of even flicking his tail slightly to maintain buoyancy seemed a monumental task. He tried to keep his eyes open but it was an effort, so he didn’t bother.

And the chanting went on. And on. And on.

Until it stopped, abruptly, with a complete silence following it.

Qui-Gon mustered the energy to raise his head up and blearily looked around. The elders were watching him with varying expressions of expectation. The People watched him as if anticipating some great feat of power. When nothing happened, when Qui-Gon did nothing but float in place, in seeming great discomfort, the head elder frowned.

“Did it work?” he asked almost peevishly.

“What was supposed to happen?” Qui-Gon asked him as belligerently as he could muster energy for.

“Review the off-worlder’s words. Do you understand them now?”

“Yes. He sought communication with those in the stars.” Qui-Gon’s affirmation caused a bit of a stir from the audience.

“Do you know the way through the Drift to the island of communication?”

Qui-Gon frowned as he concentrated. The information was slow to coalesce. “I believe so,” he replied slowly. “It’s hard to think. My head hurts greatly.”

The female elder gave a nod. “Too much too fast,” she told him. “It is unfortunate, yes, but needful. A bit of rest and the pain will fade and things will become clearer.”

Qui-Gon wondered if that was a dismissal, decided it was and turned to leave but was stopped by a warning grunt. He turned back to the councilors and waited respectfully.

“When you leave, take things of comfort and your weapon,” the head elder told him. “You are a fine warrior, Qui-Gon, cautious and clever. We have faith that you will succeed. Return to us when the off-worlder is safe with his people. Now go, rest. It is still night above. You have many trials before you. Marshal your energies, while you have leisure to do so.”

Qui-Gon nodded and, now realizing he was dismissed, headed back to his empty home. The ritual had taken a lot out of him. It didn’t take long for him to drift back into sleep. This time his dreams were full of the off-worlder talking to him, telling him stories of people from the stars, and them plotting how to get Qui-Gon there too.

Morning came soon enough and Qui-Gon, well-provisioned and armed, swam away from the only home he’d ever known. It was unknown when, or if, he would return. The farewells and well-wishes were genuine from those he knew intimately. He’d been raised among them, fought for them, seen them fed, and their injuries cared for. Despite the fact he’d never really fit in, he was one of the People and he would be missed.

Far beyond the boundaries of the underwater village, Qui-Gon stopped and looked back, memorizing all the landmarks that denoted civilization nearby. He was going into unforeseen dangers and situations. It would not be civilized. However, he was uniquely qualified for the task of helping the off-worlder and he would not shirk his duty, frightening though it might be.

He stiffened his spine and straightened his shoulders determinedly. The first thing Qui-Gon was going to do, if the ritual allowed him to speak to the off-worlder, was to get the off-worlder’s name. It would undoubtedly be exotic.

Names. The off-worlder’s immediate needs, if any. Then an explanation of what was needed to be done to offer further assistance. Qui-Gon would stress the dangers ahead but reassure the off-worlder that he was confident of success.

To fail would mean both their lives and Qui-Gon would _not_ let that happen.

* * *

Obi-Wan broiled up more fish for breakfast and drank from the fresh water pool. He thought about bathing in it and decided the point would be moot if he had to return to the salty sea surrounding his little island. Once breakfast was done, he inspected his clothes, belt, boots, lightsaber and rucksack contents. Now that he had a clearer head, he needed to start making plans.

The boots and belt, though leather, were holding up surprisingly well. A bit stiff but not cracking or peeling for the moment. His clothes were disgustingly stiff with salt water residue, making the already rough fabric coarser. It was going to start to chafe, rubbing against his skin like sandpaper. Not ideal. He considered just rinsing them in the fresh water pool, drying them in the sun then tucking them into the rucksack.

The sun beat down on his exposed shoulders. His fair skin often tended toward burning when exposed to sunlight without any sort of protection. Rubbed raw skin or sunburnt skin? For now, he would wear the undertunic and pants. The rest he would rinse out, dry and shove in the rucksack.

As for the rucksack, it was sturdy and waterproof, as Obi-Wan knew. It was standard-issue Temple equipment, able to take abuse of all climates and battering. Obi-Wan had this one for years. It was a bit worn in places, but dependable. It would probably outlast him.

The contents were another matter. Obi-Wan started with ten nutrient bars. He was down to eight, with the eighth broken up as he had done to allow the Nandians to smell it and understand it was food. He ate one of the halves just to get something other than fish in his stomach. The canteen was full of fresh water. With careful rationing if he had to leave here, he would be alright for a couple of days. He pulled out a small tin and opened it. Tea. Interesting. He wasn’t aware he’d grabbed that. A tiny bit of nutritional value but otherwise useless. He thought about just tossing it aside but stayed his hand. He needed everything. Besides, the tin might come in useful later.

His compass, given to him by Garen on his 21st name day, spun crazily when he opened the case but quickly showed he was pointed west. How useful the compass would be, Obi-Wan had no idea. He stowed it back in its pocket. A change of small clothes and socks, and the datapad he’d used on his failed mission to take notes during negotiation. It held all his evaluations and notations that he would need to hopefully in the future make a briefing to the Jedi High Council if…when…he returned to Coruscant.

Whenever the hell that would be.

He stuffed everything back in the rucksack in a bit more organized fashion. He wished he knew how to dry fish but alas, not in his repertoire. Obi-Wan was definitely going to demand all padawans be given primitive living classes. He theoretically knew what he should do for supplies, he just didn’t have the foggiest idea how to do it.

“Greetings!”

Obi-Wan’s head jerked up at the Standard Basic word shouted at him. No one on the beach. Nothing in the tree copse behind him. He looked up for a ship but the sky was blue, cloudless and empty.

“Off-worlder! Out here!”

Obi-Wan stood up and gazed out into the ocean beyond the sandbar. There, bobbing in the waves, was his Nandian, waving a hand at him to get his attention.

Cautiously, Obi-Wan called back, “You can understand me?”

The Nandian laughed and shouted exuberantly, “The ritual worked!”

Ritual? Obi-Wan swished through the shallows to the sand bar and once he got closer to his Nandian, he could see a triumphant expression on the merman’s face.

“How?” he asked, close enough that just raising his voice sufficed.

“The elders are wise and knowledgeable of many things,” the Nandian told him with a shrug. “I will tell you it was most uncomfortable.”

Obi-Wan thought about it a moment but decided he’d seen and heard stranger things. He’d play along, what the hell. “My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. I am a Jedi knight serving the Galactic Republic.”

The Nandian tipped his forward in acknowledgement. “I am Qui-Gon, from the clan Jinn. I know very little of off-worlders and the one of us who spoke your language died many years ago. I thought you were all tall tales to delight the young. But here you are, an off-worlder in the flesh!”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help it. He smiled at Qui-Gon’s enthusiasm. “I hope I live up to your expectations,” he returned.

“So far, you have,” Qui-Gon told him. “The elders say there is an island in the Tergitent Drift that holds off-world communication devices. I have been tasked to help you.”

‘Off-world communication devices’. Magic words. Obi-Wan wanted to shout jubilantly at hearing them but something in Qui-Gon’s tone about this Drift gave him pause. “This Drift. Is it dangerous?”

Qui-Gon nodded. “Indeed. The elders have given me information on how to navigate it, to find our way to where you need to be. I have never been there myself, though, so it will be an adventure for us both.”

Obi-Wan felt his hopes squash. He was next to useless in the water. He would be a liability, if not an outright hindrance. Though he could swim proficiently, he was ungainly and awkward compared to Qui-Gon. If it came to a fight, his lightsaber would be of very limited use without shorting it out completely. Somehow, he didn’t think hand-to-hand combat would be all that useful for some large predatory animal swimming about.

Yet what choice did he have? The Nandians were trying to help him as best they could. He appreciated it greatly and needed to have faith and confidence in their methods. This was their world, not his. He would have to trust if he was to survive.

“Very well. When do we leave?” he asked.

Qui-Gon shrugged. “As soon as you are ready? Was this island sufficient for your needs?”

“It had fresh water but nothing but fish to eat. I can’t live on fish alone,” Obi-Wan confessed. “But my hunger and thirst are gone for now and I have slept much so I feel refreshed.”

Qui-Gon sent a wave of relief through the Force and Obi-Wan staggered at the power behind it. Qui-Gon was a _powerful_ Force sensitive. Perhaps they would have time to talk during the journey. Obi-Wan sensed that Qui-Gon was untrained, acting instinctively. Obi-Wan could help with that, if Qui-Gon wanted. A bit of repayment for the aid Qui-Gon was giving.

“Let me get my things,” Obi-Wan told him. “I’ll be ready.”

“Very well,” Qui-Gon told him and sank under the water presumably to wait.

Obi-Wan sloshed back, made sure no coals still burned of his campfire, and double-checked that he’d packed everything, that nothing was left behind. He hoisted the rucksack on his back after donning the life jacket, rolled up his pant legs so they fit more snugly against his calves, and returned barefoot to the sandbar.

He searched the expanding ocean for signs of Qui-Gon but there was nothing. For a moment, he wondered if he’d been stranded after all and stretched out his Force sense with an inquiry and sense of readiness.

Qui-Gon’s head popped out of the water immediately. Obi-Wan waded out until he could swim and made his way to Qui-Gon.

“Your swimming, though interesting, is too disruptive. We would be better served if you continued to ride on my back,” Qui-Gon told him earnestly, as if not wanting to hurt Obi-Wan’s feelings.

“Will that tire you out?” asked Obi-Wan, sending back reassurance that he wasn’t offended.

“A little,” Qui-Gon confessed. “But it will be all right. I am more concerned with finding you someplace when darkness falls. I won’t be able to sleep and maintain us both above the surface. This,” he plucked the life preserver, “seems to help you float but it will likely not be sufficient to maintain during the long evening.”

“You’re right, it won’t,” Obi-Wan agreed. “We’ll just have to see what happens. The Force is with us,” he added.

Qui-Gon looked like he was going to ask what the Force was but stopped himself. Obi-Wan felt a stab of disappointment but reasoned that Qui-Gon had other priorities at the moment. Idle chitchat could wait. The day was growing older by the minute and it sounded like they had a lot of distance to cover.

Obi-Wan maneuvered himself onto Qui-Gon’s back, holding firmly to the merman’s broad shoulders and then they were off with a powerful swish of Qui-Gon’s tail. Like before Qui-Gon’s entire front was almost submerged, with Obi-Wan essentially surfing on top of him. The speed was moderate, not grueling, designed to cover distance without exhausting the swimmer quickly.

Obi-Wan kept a watchful eye around them as he wasn’t sure what Qui-Gon could see or sense in the waters around them. Occasionally a pink-colored something burst the surface, its body fish-looking with a long snout, side and dorsal fins, making a chattering noise as it arced through the air. It didn’t look dangerous and was actually quite beautiful. Obi-Wan felt no danger from whatever they were.

He had no measure of time but the sun was high in the sky when Qui-Gon stopped. He righted himself and said apologetically, “I need to eat. The bellaks will not harm you. They are territorial and will chase away predators. If they approach, do not be afraid. They are just curious. I must hunt for food. I will not be long.”

Obi-Wan smiled reassuringly. “It’s fine. Do what you need to do, Qui-Gon. I’ll be all right.”

Thus reassured, Qui-Gon vanished into the sea once Obi-Wan slipped off his back.

Qui-Gon had been right about the bellaks. They were curious about him. Pink dorsal fins approached him cautiously, swimming about just out of reach. Snouts and blowholes would break the surface, spraying the air, and making chittering sounds at him. Obi-Wan had never been proficient in animal communication. That was a trait of the Living Force, whereas he was more attuned to the Unifying Force. He did his best to be non-threatening and as interested in them as they were in him.

One grew bold. It approached within arm’s reach, skimming around him in dizzying circles. Tentatively, Obi-Wan stretched out his arm and brushed his fingers against the bellak’s skin. And it was skin, not scales, slick and bit rough like fine sandpaper. At his gentle touch, the bellak got even closer, coming between Obi-Wan’s outstretched arms and holding still while Obi-Wan petted it.

Obi-Wan wrapped his fingers around a dorsal fin and almost let go in surprise when the bellak began to drag him around. He sensed though the motion was playful and allowed himself to be towed. The bellak sank beneath the small waves and Obi-Wan’s grip was lost. He continued to lightly tread water, bellaks now swimming about him in bold and flashy maneuvers, as if showing off for the stranger in their ocean.

He delighted as they leaped over him, sprinkling droplets of water on his head. Some came upright, bodies in the air, their tails moving madly to propel them through the water before they went crashing down on their backs. Chirps, chattering, chittering and something akin to barking filled the air with a cacophony of sound.

Obi-Wan couldn’t help it. He laughed.

“They make you happy,” came Qui-Gon’s voice behind him.

Obi-Wan managed to get turned around to face the Nandian. He tried not to grimace as Qui-Gon tore a chunk off a fish that was still wiggling. It was strange though. Qui-Gon’s teeth were similar to Obi-Wan’s. Two small canine incisors but the rest looked more appropriate to grinding down nuts or vegetation.

So different but so similar. The universe was an amazing place.

“They seem playful,” Obi-Wan answered. “And friendly. It looked like they wanted to show off for company.”

Qui-Gon stripped off another chunk of fish, chewed, swallowed and then tossed the mostly consumed fish lazily over his shoulder. “They are. We have domesticated some of them to be used as watchful eyes for our villages. Sometimes predators prowl too close. We have lost overly curious younglings. The bellaks let us know when danger is near. I knew you would be safe.”

“I was indeed,” Obi-Wan said. Pink fins continued to crest around them, a bit more distant now that Qui-Gon was here. “They are beautiful.”

Qui-Gon blinked at him in a disconcerted fashion, as if he’d never considered the matter. “I suppose,” he said with a shrug. “Are you ready?”

Obi-Wan swam the small bit of distance and reached to touch Qui-Gon’s face. His curiosity regarding the merman’s beard was eating him up inside. It was a bit bristly like his own but soft in its way. He traced his fingers over the heavy brow and down the broken nose, wondering how a merman got his nose broken. Did mermen snore?

Qui-Gon tolerated the exploration with grace and humor. His curiosity appeased, Obi-Wan made his way to Qui-Gon’s back, gripped the broad shoulders, reveling in the heat of his skin and said, “Ready when you are, Qui-Gon of the clan Jinn.”

He felt amusement through the Force and they were off, this time accompanied by guarding bellaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, bellaks=dolphins. Everything is better with dolphins. "So long and thanks for all the fish!" - BBC Audio production of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.
> 
> Also "primitive doesn't mean stupid" was something my mother drilled into me and my sister from an early age. She was greatly interested in the native peoples of the Americas and stressed that just because they had not developed iron age techniques by the time Europeans came, the natives were far from stupid. They were undoubtedly a lot smarter than the Europeans at that time. After a lifetime of studying the history of Europe and the Americas, I'm inclined to agree.


	4. Chapter 4

Obi-Wan Kenobi was a strange being. Qui-Gon had never considered bellaks as beautiful. They were many things, of course, but Qui-Gon had never considered their aesthetic qualities. Obi-Wan was right, though, bellaks were beautiful. Graceful, playful, protective…and beautiful.

Just as Obi-Wan himself was beautiful. The off-worlder’s exploration of his face had taken Qui-Gon off-guard. Obi-Wan’s fingers were questing, curious but not harmful. Did Obi-Wan not see well? Is that why he had to touch Qui-Gon’s face as if memorizing his features? Was this an injury from his arrival here, a species trait, or perhaps a birth defect?

He should ask when next they stop. Qui-Gon needed to know in case it became relevant.

Obi-Wan’s gentle touch had been quite…exhilarating. Almost erotic. Qui-Gon had wanted to return the gesture, in case it was some ritual of trust or something, but forewent the idea. They had a long way to go to the next place for Obi-Wan to rest. Time was not on their side.

The bellaks eventually fell away as the two left their territory. There might be more, Qui-Gon knew, but not in their immediate future. There was always danger in the ocean but for now they were not in a dangerous area. If the information the elders gave him was correct, there was another small island that could be reached by nightfall. He would get Obi-Wan safely there, then if the off-worlder wished to talk, they would talk.

The sun was just starting to sink into the horizon when Qui-Gon smelled dry sand. It was barren, but dry. It would have to do.

He stopped long enough to say, “Land nearby. It is a place to rest. I don’t think there is fresh water or vegetation.”

Obi-Wan nodded, his chin brushing Qui-Gon’s hair and giving the merman a bit of a shiver. “We’ll have to make do,” was the response.

Qui-Gon swam closer. The island was more a patch of sand than anything else. It was just there, surrounded by deep water. Qui-Gon could swim right up to it so he did. Obi-Wan hauled himself out of the ocean, cascading water from whatever covered his body, and dripping everywhere. Qui-Gon braced his arms on the sandy ledge and watched as Obi-Wan collapsed with a sigh.

“You’re doing all the work but I’m strangely tired,” the off-worlder complained.

“Are you injured?” Qui-Gon asked with concern. “Ill?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Not that I can tell. Your planet may have a heavier gravity than what I’m used to, or something in your air that is not quite compatible with my respiratory system. It could be anything really.”

“You have no means to tell?”

“Perhaps on my ship, but I crashed so quickly and all my systems were offline. I had a limited amount of time to gather supplies and get out before the ship sank,” Obi-Wan told him, flopping onto his back in the sand after removing his pack.

Qui-Gon smiled to himself. His off-worlder had the mannerisms of a petulant child sometimes. It was a bit endearing.

“Do you still have food and fresh water?”

Obi-Wan wiggled around until he was lying on the sand but facing Qui-Gon. “Yes. But I’m going to have to ration it. The island you left me on before had nothing to eat. And while I suppose I could eat fish raw, I’m not sure I wouldn’t throw it back up.”

Qui-Gon frowned. He didn’t understand. His expression must have said so for Obi-Wan explained, “I have to cook my food, especially meats. My stomach doesn’t have the requisite bacteria to stop potential disease from uncooked food in continuous or large quantities. Ideally, I could eat plants or fruits and nuts, but I haven’t seen any yet.”

Qui-Gon had absolutely no idea what Obi-Wan was talking about. He didn’t comprehend the words ‘cook’ or ‘uncooked’ and his knowledge of land-based vegetation was non-existent.

“Some of the fish could be poisonous to me as well,” Obi-Wan added almost as an afterthought.

Now _that_ Qui-Gon could understand. “I do not know if our bodies are similar but I can at least bring you fish that I know are not poisonous to me,” he offered.

“When we get somewhere where I can start a fire, it would be a kindness,” Obi-Wan told him gratefully.

Qui-Gon didn’t know what ‘fire’ was either but decided to also let that go.

“My elders bid me to offer you a token of our goodwill,” he said instead. “An off-world weapon left here many years ago. Perhaps you know of its origins and can return it to its people. Or keep it yourself if you have need of it.”

Qui-Gon opened the pouch hanging at his waist and pulled forth the red-beamed weapon.

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened and he came upright with a jerk. His hands shook as he reached for the weapon Qui-Gon was offering.

“This is a lightsaber,” Obi-Wan said breathlessly. He pulled a similar object from his belt and held them up together.

They were similar but different. Obi-Wan’s had a more pleasing design while the one Qui-Gon had given him was almost crude and ugly. Obi-Wan pressed down on a protrusion on his weapon and a blue beam of light sprang forth with a hum. Qui-Gon could feel an intense warmth from the light.

“The weapon I gave you is red,” he noted helpfully.

Obi-Wan gave him a sharp look, fierce. Qui-Gon wondered what was wrong with that but didn’t say anything further as Obi-Wan turned his weapon off and turned on the other one. A red beam, as dark as any shed blood, shot forth with the same humming sound.

“How in all the little gods of the universe did you get a Sith lightsaber?”

Qui-Gon tipped his head to the side. “Sith? What is Sith? Is that the race of people who use these weapons? Are you Sith too?”

“No, I’m not Sith!” snapped Obi-Wan and then clamped his mouth shut, an apology wafting through their shared strange bond. “I am a Jedi. We are peacekeepers, negotiators. We offer aid to those who have need. The Sith –“ Obi-Wan set both weapons down in front of him as he struggled for words. “The Sith are evil. They thrive on destruction, chaos, and pain. They are fueled in the Force by negative emotions: hate, fear, anger. They serve the Dark Side of the Force. The Jedi serve the Light Side.”

Qui-Gon frowned. “All beings feel fear, hate and anger, just as they feel happiness, acceptance, and serenity. One is the balance of the other.” He almost smiled at Obi-Wan’s arrested expression. “What is the Force?”

At that, Obi-Wan smiled. Qui-Gon felt that tendril of something between them blossom into the feeling of pleasure. He wanted to hug the feeling close to him.

“Did you feel that?” Qui-Gon nodded, so Obi-Wan continued. “That is the Force. Those who are Force sensitive can tap into it. It’s an energy that flows throughout the universe. Those who can sense it can manipulate it, draw strength and power from it, enhance their other senses or abilities. Some receive gifts from the Force. It gives me the ability of foresight. Sometimes I can see the future, not clearly, but an idea of things to come.”

Qui-Gon thought about that. “I have always been Force sensitive,” he confessed. “It has made me an outsider among the People. No one knows how I do the things I do, know the things I know, and feel the things I feel. I am one of them but not.” The last was said sadly. “When I met you and could sense you the elders realized that my gift might be your salvation. That is why I am here helping you. They weren’t sure the ritual to make me understand your language would work. If it didn’t, I could still sense what you needed.”

He chanced a glance at Obi-Wan, who was frowning down at him. “Do you not want to help me, Qui-Gon?”

Qui-Gon realized his words had been misconstrued. “Oh, no, nothing like that. I am honored to help you, to fulfill our promise to the other star travelers. For our planet’s protection we are to help any star travelers who come here.” He gestured to the red bladed weapon. “But if the person who had that weapon was evil…I don’t understand…”

Obi-Wan’s gaze turned thoughtful. “I don’t understand either. Do you know how long ago this off-worlder came here?”

Qui-Gon shook his head. “Long, long ago.”

Obi-Wan picked up the lightsaber, inspected it and gave a huff. “The daylight’s fading but it looks crudely constructed. It may be very old or just made by someone who had no idea what they were doing. I can’t tell.”

“Does it matter?”

Obi-Wan gave him a wry look. “At the moment? No, not really. What the future may bring, I cannot say.”

Qui-Gon shrugged dismissively. “Sleep. Eat what you can. We will start again at morning light. The Drift is another two days from here.”

Obi-Wan’s expression turned apprehensive. “Qui-Gon, I am not made for water living. If we come across danger, I will be a liability to you.”

Which reminded Qui-Gon. “When you touched my face, is it because you could not see me well?”

Obi-Wan blinked at the shift of topic. “No. I just –“ Here his skin turned as pink as a bellak. “I wanted to know what you felt like.”

Qui-Gon then replied to Obi-Wan’s comment, thrilled at Obi-Wan’s response. “The danger in the Drift is the current’s power. There may be beasts there, yes, and we may find danger along the way, true. I have fought many battles against predators large and small, as well as against raiders who attack our village. I can protect us both. Just use your Force as I do,” he offered, hoping he was understanding the concept correctly.

It appeared he did, for Obi-Wan gave a laugh and shake of his head. “Very well. You know best. You’re in charge.” He tucked his bag beneath his head and closed his eyes. “Good night, Qui-Gon.”

“Sleep well, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon returned and sank beneath the waves to rest himself.

* * *

Obi-Wan woke when there was a splash of water on his face. His eyes popped open and Qui-Gon was braced on the ledge, hand outstretched, dribbling water playfully on Obi-Wan. He reached up and swatted the hand away, getting a delighted laugh from Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan grinned, gave a lazy, full-body stretch and sat up.

His stomach growled, reminding him he didn’t eat before sleeping. He dug out the last half of the broken nutrient bar and ate it. He swished it down with a couple measured sips of water from his canteen. He sealed everything back inside the rucksack and looked at Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon was watching him with those intense blue eyes. Obi-Wan arched one of his eyebrows in inquiry but Qui-Gon’s expression turned sheepish. He gestured to the blue sparkling water around them and said, “Shall we?”

Obi-Wan slipped into the water and resolved to never complain he didn’t get to swim often anymore. He settled into his normal position on Qui-Gon’s back and off they went.

Like the day before, it was a wide-open expanse of watery nothingness. There weren’t even pink-finned bellaks to break the monotony. Obi-Wan sank into a light meditation, eyes half-slitted. He done such before, allowing him to center himself in the Force yet still be aware of his surroundings. If he was in the wilds of some planet, his stillness sometimes brought wildlife to check him out. The number of times he’d been bitten by a curious critter were too numerous to count.

A vision of Qui-Gon nibbling on his neck made him flush and he tried to keep the arousing vision from any Force connection he had with the merman. ‘Entirely inappropriate!’ he scolded himself.

Once again when the sun was high in the sky, Qui-Gon stopped to hunt for food. It was apparent the Nandian felt a bit guilty that he was able to eat regularly and Obi-Wan was not, but Obi-Wan sent through their strange bond that it was fine, to do what needed to be done.

Obi-Wan bobbed in the water alone, wishing like hell for some playful bellaks to calm his nerves. Qui-Gon re-emerged and they continued on.

It was well into dark when Obi-Wan clambered onto some rocks that would be absolute purgatory to find a comfortable position on. They were obviously the remains of a volcanic upheaval, spiky, porous-looking and small in size.

Qui-Gon offered to swim around and find something better but Obi-Wan waved the offer off. “This is better than nothing,” he told Qui-Gon.

Morning brought the same, half a nutrient bar, two sips of water, and more holding on while Qui-Gon propelled them through the water.

It wasn’t quite mid-day when Qui-Gon came to an abrupt halt. Obi-Wan pulled himself out of his light trance and stretched his senses out. Qui-Gon was disturbed and there was danger nearby. What, though, Obi-Wan couldn’t discern.

“Rampurge,” Qui-Gon said tersely to Obi-Wan’s query through the Force. “Predator fish, very dangerous, large but not enormous. Your swimming motions will get its attention. It has limited senses, targeting the weak and helpless. Your motions mimic injured prey.”

Obi-Wan swallowed. “If I don’t move my legs to tread water, even with this preserver vest, I will eventually sink. I can float on my back but that makes me even more vulnerable.”

He could see Qui-Gon was thinking.

“Will your swimming as you’ve done get the rampurge’s attention as well?”

Qui-Gon grimaced. “Likely.”

“Can you outswim it with me as a burden?”

Qui-Gon shrugged. “We have little choice. We have to try. If it attacks, my tail is longer than your body. It will get me first. It will pull me under. You’ll have to break free if that happens. I will fight. I will win. Then we will resume.”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, resumed his position, and reached out into the Force for any warning that the rampurge was going to strike. If he could warn Qui-Gon, he would at least be of some use.

What did a rampurge look like?

A few minutes later, Obi-Wan wished he hadn’t asked the universe that question. The answer was big, ugly, lots of teeth, and black as pitch.

It rose in front of them and Obi-Wan sent out a tendril of alarm. Qui-Gon stopped swimming and Obi-Wan kicked free of Qui-Gon’s body. Qui-Gon reached for the small pouch around his waist and pulled out a small stick-looking object. He gave it a shake and a spear burst forth, much like the one the Nandian who had accompanied Qui-Gon and the elders to the island carried.

Qui-Gon let out a snarl and launched himself at the rampurge. The rampurge, for its part, was not impressed. It sank beneath the surface, Qui-Gon hot behind it. Obi-Wan stretched out the Force as much as possible, detected the conflict beneath him, thought he felt something brush his legs which caused him to flinch and stop treading water a moment, and then there was nothing.

A surge of triumph swamped Obi-Wan just as Qui-Gon’s head and shoulders burst the surface. There was a gash on his right shoulder, not deep and with very little blood. Instinctively, Obi-Wan placed his hands on the wound and sent a burst of Force healing into it, sealing the wound closed and clearing any possible hints of infection. When he opened his eyes, Qui-Gon was staring at him in wary astonishment.

“How did you do that?” Qui-Gon demanded, hand going to the closed wound protectively.

“The Force. I’m not a full healer by any means, but I’m not unskilled at basic Force healing. The number of times I’ve had to do it to myself as well as my master? I’m no amateur.”

Qui-Gon frowned at his words. “We will talk later,” Qui-Gon announced with finality. “The rampurge’s remains will bring more rampurges and other predators. We must leave, quickly.”

“Let’s go,” Obi-Wan said amiably, gripping the back of Qui-Gon’s shoulders once more.

They resumed their swim.

* * *

The Force could do miraculous healing. Qui-Gon’s thoughts whirled around that concept. It had seemed like a mystic energy flowed through the wound. He could feel the skin knit closed, something trickling in to remove any toxins from the rampurge’s bite. What _else_ could this Force of Obi-Wan’s do? And could he train Qui-Gon in it, since Qui-Gon was a Force user too?

There was no place for Obi-Wan to rest this night, though Qui-Gon searched his memory for anything. He swam until he just couldn’t anymore and stopped.

Obi-Wan looked around with a frown but seemed to understand. Qui-Gon felt obliged to apologize anyway. “I’m sorry.”

Obi-Wan gave him a resigned smile. “Nothing to be done,” he said philosophically. “I won’t get much sleep, but I can float on my back. The vest will help. There are other ways of using the Force to recoup energy if you can’t sleep.”

Qui-Gon opened his mouth to ask but decided this was not the time. “The current is not strong here,” he said instead. “I can sleep close to the surface and not be pulled far away from you.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Obi-Wan agreed and then brought his legs up until his whole body floated like flotsam on the gentle waves.

Qui-Gon marveled for a moment at Obi-Wan’s adaptability and then gratefully went into the dim darkness of the ocean.

Morning came and Qui-Gon woke. A fish darted by, Qui-Gon snatching it up and biting into it. Gummis weren’t his favorite but he couldn’t afford to be choosy. He grabbed another, ate it, and then came to the surface. He had noticed before that Obi-Wan found his eating fish disgusting. He didn’t want to offend.

Obi-Wan was floating a short distance away, eyes closed, looking peaceful. Qui-Gon stretched out with the Force and sensed that Obi-Wan was indeed not asleep but in some sort of light trance. The off-worlder could teach Qui-Gon so much.

Qui-Gon made his way to Obi-Wan’s side and touched his shoulder. Obi-Wan’s eyes opened up lazily and he smiled. “Shall we?” he asked around a yawn.

“Yes.

If the information the elders’ ritual gave him was correct, they would reach the Drift within a day, maybe less. Obi-Wan would need someplace to rest completely, eat and have fresh water. He had also not complained of needing to relieve himself of waste. Perhaps his species didn’t do that? Qui-Gon would ask, but it was awkward and, frankly, embarrassing. If Obi-Wan brough it up, they would discuss it.

He searched his memory for anyplace for Obi-Wan. An island, a bit off course, but perhaps it would do. Yes, he would take Obi-Wan to this island.

They swam.

Qui-Gon pushed himself hard. Though Obi-Wan seemed strong, Qui-Gon could see an undercurrent of frailty. Whatever energy reserves Obi-Wan had, they were being depleted. His off-worlder could not maintain life like this without detrimental effect that could endanger them both. Qui-Gon hoped that this island could give Obi-Wan what he needed.

Obi-Wan was either ignorant of their destination or too tired to care and trusted Qui-Gon implicitly. Likely it was both. Like the night before it was well into dark, the three moons hanging above them in the sky, before Qui-Gon reached the island.

He got as close as he dared and Obi-Wan staggered the rest of the way onto the shore.

“Oof!” Obi-Wan whuffed as he sank to his knees. He pulled his bag from his back in a slow, exaggerated manner that told Qui-Gon of deep exhaustion. Obi-Wan dug around in the pack, pulled out one of his odd food things and ate a whole one. He took several long pulls from his water as well.

“Sleep,” called Qui-Gon. “We reach the Drift tomorrow.”

Obi-Wan gave a tired nod and wave and flopped onto his back. A strange noise erupted from him that Qui-Gon knew indicated deep sleep.

Qui-Gon ate four fish and went to sleep himself.

Tomorrow would be a hard swim, perhaps the most dangerous thing he’d ever done. He needed to be ready.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm impatient. This is my favorite part. I couldn't wait for tomorrow so I'm posting tonight. PLEASE tell me if it works? (nervous chewing of fingernails) I hope it's exciting, unexpected, and a bit humorous.

Obi-Wan woke to the sun shining in his face and a faint salty-breeze blowing gently around him. He groggily sat up and scanned the shoreline but there was no sign of Qui-Gon. He thought about eating another nutrient bar, he was starving, but refrained. He looked around behind him and found a veritable jungle.

It was verdant, lush, and full of life. Small mammals skittered around and birds called to each other from branches. Brightly colored flowers of a huge variety exploded in the green. He got the impression that this island was of good size but identified nothing predatory in the Living Force. Glancing over his shoulder at the ocean behind him, he still saw nothing of Qui-Gon and decided to explore. With luck, he’d find something to eat.

He relieved himself off his chosen path, such as it was, and hoisted his pack firmly onto his back to walk deeper into the island’s interior. A small waterfall of rushing water met his ears after a bit and he picked up his steps. What he found made him want to cry.

It was indeed a waterfall, filling a pool of water, clean and clear. Obi-Wan knelt at the edge of the pool and drank his fill, then refilled his canteen. Dipping his feet in the water, he relished the non-saltiness of it and once again longed for a proper bath.

After a few moments enjoyment of just listening to the fauna around him, Obi-Wan stood and regarded the plant life around him. Some of the bushes had some sort of yellow berries. This one had berries that were almost a purpley-black. There was a soft whump to his right and he saw rolling in the dead brush a nut of some sort that fell from a tree.

He snatched it up and inspected it.

It was a bit smaller than his fist, with a hard shell that needed to be cracked. All he had was his lightsaber, as well as the Sith lightsaber Qui-Gon had given him as a gesture of good faith. Obi-Wan looked around for some way to crack open the shell and found a loose rock. He picked up the rock, set the nut on a small stone ledge by the pool and smashed it.

The nut crushed easily, showing a meaty core. Obi-Wan picked up some pieces and hoped it was edible as he put it in his mouth.

Ambrosia. It had a sweet flavor to it, as well as the nutty overtones inherent in all nuts the galaxy over. He gathered up more, cracked and ate them.

The berries he was less sure about. As a rule on most planets, yellow berries or any of a pale color were either not ripe or downright inedible. Obi-Wan decided to stick to that rule and avoid the yellow berries he’d seen.

The purpley-black however were another matter. They looked fragile and squishy. The bush they grew on was practically a bramble with obvious thorns. More than likely edible. Obi-Wan gently removed three, rinsed them in the pool and popped them in his mouth. The flavor was a bit sharp, a tad sour but still good. There was no immediate reaction but he decided to wait a bit longer just in case. He needed to go back to the shore and find Qui-Gon. This little bit of paradise would be an excellent place for Obi-Wan to regain his waning energy reserves. With potential abundance of food and water, it was the best he’d yet seen on Nandia.

Obi-Wan stepped onto the shore and there was a wave of relief through the Force. He could see Qui-Gon further down the shoreline. He’d obviously been searching for Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan felt a bit of guilt for worrying Qui-Gon so. The Nandian had been his savior. He deserved better treatment from the Jedi knight.

Obi-Wan waded out and met Qui-Gon, who’s blue eyes reflected relief and a spark of anger. “I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan said. “There’s fresh water inland. Also, potential food. I was exploring.”

The anger faded. “Good,” Qui-Gon said with a nod.

Obi-Wan decided to go for broke. “Are we on a deadline?” Qui-Gon frowned, obviously not understanding. “I mean, are we in a rush? Can we stay here a couple days? I need the variety of foods available and it will give me time to get my equilibrium back.”

Qui-Gon thought a moment and then shrugged. “We are only in a hurry as you need. We can remain if you like.”

Obi-Wan smiled. “Excellent.” He looked at the green life behind him. “I wish you could come on shore,” he said wistfully. “There are many beautiful things here to see.”

Qui-Gon was curious. “Like what?” he prompted.

“Flowers, fruit, birds, animals, plants,” Obi-Wan supplied.

“I know what birds are. They fly in the sky,” Qui-Gon mused. “I assume animals are things that live on land like fish live in the ocean. But I don’t know what flowers are.”

Obi-Wan swallowed. Qui-Gon’s entire existence was narrowed to his life in the ocean. While there were undoubtedly many wondrous things below the waves, that the Nandian would be so ignorant of other parts of his world was a bit jarring to Obi-Wan.

“I’ll be right back,” he said hoarsely and headed back to the green.

He plucked a couple sweet-smelling flowers and brought them back out. He could see he had Qui-Gon’s rapt attention as he waded back out into the water. “A flower,” he said simply, handing Qui-Gon a bright red one.

Qui-Gon took it, carefully inspecting it with a frown of concentration.

“Smell it,” Obi-Wan prompted.

Qui-Gon shoved his nose into the bloom and then jerked it back out after a deep breath. “It stinks!” Qui-Gon said with no little accusation.

“It doesn’t smell good to you?” Obi-Wan asked in surprise.

Qui-Gon’s frown deepened and he gave the flower another tentative sniff, this time not shoving his nose into the petals. “It’s strange,” Qui-Gon admitted.

“But do you like it?” pressed Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon gave him a long look. “I don’t know,” he grudgingly said. “It smells like nothing I’ve ever smelled.”

That was fair enough, Obi-Wan thought. He handed Qui-Gon the other flower and watched as the Nandian repeated the tentative sniff of the orangish bloom.

“This is less offensive,” Qui-Gon declared, handing it back.

Obi-Wan laughed. He couldn’t help it. He took the flower back and tucked it behind his ear. Qui-Gon regarded him for a moment, as if evaluating if Obi-Wan had lost his mind, and then smiled at him.

Qui-Gon had smiled at him before but this was the first time Obi-Wan was in a position to appreciate it. It lit the man’s blue eyes to glittering sapphires, deepened the smattering of lines around his eyes and mouth, and transformed his face from attractive to fascinating. Before Obi-Wan could catch himself, he wondered what Qui-Gon would taste like if Obi-Wan kissed him.

Shocked at his own thoughts, Obi-Wan smiled back and trudged back to the sandy shore. “I’ll be back. I think some of the berries are edible. I’m going to get some more.”

He could tell Qui-Gon had no idea what ‘berries’ were but understood that it was a type of food. The link between them was awash with complacence.

Obi-Wan explored. After a while he had to put his boots on, tight though they were, as some of the undergrowth was a bit harsh for his bare feet. He used his shed outer tunic as a mock-bag, gathering nuts and berries that he deemed potentially edible. He couldn’t use the animal life around him as a gauge. They likely could eat things that would probably kill him sure as anything. But he did watch what they avoided and avoided it as well.

He studied the animals around him. They were small mammals of some sort. Not simian in nature, more rodent perhaps. Whether they were edible was anyone’s guess. If he got desperate, he’d see if he could catch and cook one.

Speaking of cook. Qui-Gon didn’t know that word either. It would be admittedly difficult to have a fire in the ocean so it stood to reason that Qui-Gon had no concept of ‘cooking’. He would have to give an impromptu lesson in the care and feeding of humans and humanoids to his Nandian guide. It would give Qui-Gon an idea of Obi-Wan’s needs and limitations regarding food.

Could Qui-Gon eat berries? Was he primarily a carnivore, eating fish? Though his best friend, Bant Eerin, was a Mon Calamarian who relished watery plants for food, Obi-Wan had never seen Qui-Gon eat anything other than fish. He would have to ask. He too would need to know Qui-Gon’s needs and limitations.

Obi-Wan brought his haul of goodies back to the shore to find Qui-Gon splashing about in the shallows. He thought Qui-Gon was playing at first but a frisson of fear raced through the Force and Obi-Wan dropped everything and rushed to Qui-Gon’s aid.

He was caught in some sort of rip current. Not precisely that, Obi-Wan knew, but similar. And Qui-Gon couldn’t get out. His scaled tail was drying as the waves continued to push him further and further onto the shore.

He got to Qui-Gon and began to drag him back to the water but each time the tide rolled in, it knocked him off his feet and pushed them back onto the beach.

“I’ve got to drag you away from this spot,” Obi-Wan panted to a panicky Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon gave a shudder and nodded.

Obi-Wan began to drag. He winced at Qui-Gon’s ragged breathing and the sparks of pain through the Force. The pain increased and Qui-Gon cried out in agony. Obi-Wan turned around to see what happened and gaped.

Qui-Gon’s tail was…splitting. Into limbs. The Nandian had no idea what was happening and cried out once more, reaching for Obi-Wan in his pain and terror. Obi-Wan dropped to his knees and cradled the great head in his lap. The transformation, if that’s what it was, was slow-going, as water continued to lap against them. It took Obi-Wan a moment to realize that the water was hampering the transformation and thus extending Qui-Gon’s misery.

Not thinking, just acting, he dragged Qui-Gon further up on the beach, out of the pushing waves. In a few moments it was over. Qui-Gon lay panting on the sand, completely nude, with fully formed human legs just like Obi-Wan.

“What’s happened to me?” Qui-Gon cried out fearfully, looking down. “I don’t understand!” He looked at Obi-Wan with a tear-stained face, his hair scraggly about his head and shoulders.

Obi-Wan brushed the hair from Qui-Gon’s face and on instinct, kissed his forehead gently. “I don’t know. Have none of your people come up on land before?”

Qui-Gon gave him a look of horror. “No! We are of the sea! We are the People!” he protested.

Obi-Wan looked thoughtfully down at Qui-Gon’s legs, the skin pale as moonglow. “You have legs like me now.”

Qui-Gon made a mewling sound of fear and shuddered. His toes flexed and his left leg jerked into a bend.

“Did that hurt?” Obi-Wan asked with concern.

Qui-Gon shook his head but he was still breathing in an erratic manner.

Obi-Wan decided to see what Qui-Gon’s legs could do. He would be shaky as any being just learning to walk, so Obi-Wan would have to all but carry him until he got coordinated. “Come on,” he urged. “Sit up. Let’s see if you can walk.”

“Walk?” Qui-Gon squeaked.

“Like how I move on land,” Obi-Wan explained. Qui-Gon looked aghast at the idea, but Obi-Wan coaxed him up, arms around Qui-Gon’s waist, levering first to his knees and then to a very shaky stand. “Just stay like that. Get used to it. Hold onto me so you don’t fall.”

The idea of falling seemed even more terrifying to Qui-Gon for he gripped Obi-Wan so hard the Jedi grunted. Obi-Wan was going to have some spectacular hand-print bruises.

“Straighten your legs,” Obi-Wan told him after a few minutes. Qui-Gon was getting heavy.

Qui-Gon gave him a nervous look but tried, shaking them both with his efforts to straighten his legs.

“Now balance.”

“What?” Qui-Gon’s voice was thready with his huge load of emotions.

Obi-Wan let go for demonstration and Qui-Gon began to teeter. Obi-Wan grabbed him again. “Balance,” he said, “will keep you upright so you don’t fall back to the ground.”

It took sometime before Qui-Gon was able to somewhat stand on his own. He still couldn’t entirely straighten his legs and he was hunched a little.

This, Obi-Wan reflected, had to be the strangest situation he’d ever been in his entire life. And he’d seen and done some damned strange things.

* * *

Qui-Gon was trying not to panic. He really was, but he had legs! He looked like Obi-Wan! His beautiful tail was gone, replaced by these pale, colorless things that wobbled and shook with his weight.

He almost demanded Obi-Wan take him back to the water, to see if his tail came back but something stopped the words. His latent curiosity, that which got him into continuous trouble first with his parents and then the elders, took control. He wanted to know what walking felt like. He wanted to see the things on this island that Obi-Wan told him about, that he didn’t know existed. He wanted to explore.

To do that, though, he had to learn to move like Obi-Wan.

“How do I walk?” he asked in a tone bordering on terrified.

Obi-Wan gave him a small smile. “Put one foot in front of the other.”

Qui-Gon wasn’t sure how to do that and looked down at the protuberance at the ends of his legs. They stuck out and had individual nubs that he could wiggle. Like fingers but down there. Were those foot?

He concentrated and lifted his left leg. “Is this a foot?” he asked.

“A foot with five toes,” Obi-Wan told him.

“Toes. Those little things I can wiggle?”

Obi-Wan gave a chuckle. “Yes. You have nice toes.”

That was all right, Qui-Gon supposed. He hadn’t paid much attention to Obi-Wan’s legs and foot and toes, really, compare so he thought he should take Obi-Wan at his word. “How do I move my foot?” he asked.

“Well, it’s in the air, just put down in front of the other one,” Obi-Wan told him bracingly.

Okay. He could do that. Seemed simple enough. Qui-Gon focused, put the foot in the air directly in front of the one on the ground and shifted his weight.

“Well, not directly in front. Just in a natural position of it. They work side by side,” Obi-Wan amended.

Qui-Gon gave him a dirty look. Obi-Wan needed to be clearer on his instructions! Qui-Gon had never walked before!

He resettled the left foot over more and found Obi-Wan was right. It was a bit more natural feeling and he could feel his balance, as Obi-Wan called it, easier to maintain. Encouraged, he picked up the right foot and put it further in front of the left. His body moved forward with the motion and Obi-Wan moved with him, a firm arm around his waist.

It was reassuring. Obi-Wan wouldn’t let him fall.

One foot at a time, Qui-Gon moved. It was slow going, but they eventually reached Obi-Wan’s dropped things. Qui-Gon was exhausted but exhilarated. He walked!

Obi-Wan helped him sit down on the ground and then moved to his dropped things. The off-worlder sat and crossed his legs in some weird design that looked painful to Qui-Gon. He wouldn’t be trying that anytime soon. Instead Qui-Gon stretched his legs out and looked at them in wonder.

They came to a join and there were things there. He hadn’t noticed them before. He looked up at Obi-Wan, who was chewing something, and pointed out the new appendages. “What are these?”

To his alarm, Obi-Wan turned a deep shade of red. He sputtered on what he was chewing and managed to swallow it without choking. “Reproductive organs,” Obi-Wan gasped out, looking anywhere but at Qui-Gon. “On a human, they also help relieve one of bodily liquid waste.”

Qui-Gon poked them. They didn’t seem impressive. He looked up at Obi-Wan again, who was still that bright shade of red in his face and studiously not looking at Qui-Gon. “Do you have reproductive organs like this?” he asked curiously.

Obi-Wan covered his face with one hand and gave a laugh. “Yes,” he said.

“How do you mate?”

Obi-Wan laughed some more, to Qui-Gon’s confusion. “It’s personal, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan finally said after he’d regained control. “The females have compatible organs. The male gets her with child and she births a baby in nine months.”

“Nine months!” Qui-Gon was horrified. “Our women only carry young for three! Nine?”

Obi-Wan blew out a breath. “Every species is different. Some lay eggs, some have live birth. Some carry for a long time, some for very little time at all.”

“Eggs?”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes again then popped them open with a frown. “How do fish here have young?”

“Small orbs they excrete,” Qui-Gon told him promptly.

“We call those ‘eggs’,” Obi-Wan explained.

“Oh.” Qui-Gon thought a moment. “How-“

“Qui-Gon, I’m tired. You’re tired. Exciting though this is, we need rest. Are you hungry? Do I need to catch you a fish or two to eat?” Obi-Wan interrupted.

“No, I ate. That’s how I got caught on that tide,” Qui-Gon explained. “I wasn’t paying attention. Before I knew it, I was on the beach and couldn’t get back to the water. You weren’t there and I was so afraid…” Qui-Gon stopped, shivering with his remembered panic.

Obi-Wan’s face dissolved into an expression of sympathy and understanding. He scooted over and cradled Qui-Gon’s face in his hands. “It’s all right. You’re safe now. We’ll figure out what to do in the morning. Now lay down. Here,” he wadded up one of his things and put it on the ground, “use this to put your head on. Close your eyes, try to relax, and go to sleep. We’re safe here, I promise.”

Qui-Gon wanted to resist, wanted to argue, but Obi-Wan was right. Everything was too jumbled in his mind. Rest and the morning would make things clearer.

He closed his eyes and immediately fell asleep, Obi-Wan’s arms wrapped around him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some revelations and smexy times. :)

Morning came and Obi-Wan woke to Qui-Gon’s blue eyes staring down at him. The merman was braced on one elbow, head in hand, his other hand loosely laying on Obi-Wan’s waist, fingers drawing little circles that was shooting sparks through Obi-Wan. He smiled when he saw Obi-Wan blinking awake and the Jedi’s heart skipped a beat.

“Good morning,” rumbled Qui-Gon.

“Good morning, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan said, searching the other’s face for any discomfort at his predicament. There was none. If anything, Qui-Gon seemed…smug.

“I have discovered something about my reproductive organs,” Qui-Gon told him.

Obi-Wan fought a groan and said instead, “Oh? What’s that?”

“It grows.”

Obi-Wan swallowed and reflexively looked down. Qui-Gon was right. He grew. Impressively. Obi-Wan’s mouth went dry. _Very_ impressive.

He dragged his gaze back up and was startled when Qui-Gon leaned down and pressed a kiss against his lips. Qui-Gon’s lips were pillowy soft, his beard ticklish. Obi-Wan shuddered, overwhelmed with need. His attraction to Qui-Gon before had been a mere nuisance. How the hell did one make love to a man with a fishtail? Now Qui-Gon had a functioning human body. Obi-Wan was quickly finding himself out of his depth.

Qui-Gon pulled back, looking a bit smugger. “That is how the People show affection. Is this acceptable?”

Obi-Wan drew in a breath. “That is how mine do as well,” he said. Qui-Gon’s eyes lit up and he leaned down for another kiss, but Obi-Wan stopped him, both hands on Qui-Gon’s broad chest. His chest hair tickled Obi-Wan’s fingers. “Qui-Gon, wait.”

Qui-Gon tipped his head in confusion. “Do you not find me attractive?”

Unable to lie, knowing Qui-Gon would probably pick up on it through the Force, Obi-Wan answered honestly, “I do indeed find you very attractive. But being with the same gender of your species is not like being with the opposite gender. Sexual organs…” Here he floundered. How to describe male with male lovemaking?

“We have the same organs,” Qui-Gon rumbled with a bit of amusement. “I assume there are other methods of pleasure given.”

Obi-Wan blinked at him. Qui-Gon was a quicker study than Obi-Wan had given him credit for. “Yes.”

“Perhaps now is not the time,” Qui-Gon decided, even as he took his free hand and brushed hair out of Obi-Wan’s eyes. “Soon, maybe. It depends on if my legs,” and here he looked down, “remain or go away in the water.”

A bit primitive due to environmental restrictions, perhaps, but not in the least bit stupid.

“That would be wise,” Obi-Wan agreed. He sat up, brushed sand off his tunic and then brushed sand off Qui-Gon when he too sat up.

Obi-Wan ate a breakfast of berries and nuts and coaxed to life a tiny fire. When he asked Qui-Gon if the man wanted to return to the ocean, Qui-Gon gave a frantic shake of his head. The sense that he was afraid of the pain returning to his tail might bring brushed through Obi-Wan’s mind and Obi-Wan decided, since they were in no hurry, he could let Qui-Gon continue to try out being a land-based creature.

He waded out into the ocean and caught some fish for them both as he’d done prior, Qui-Gon watching him avidly a safe distance away. Obi-Wan rigged up a roasting stick but when he started to gut the fish with his hand, a small blade materialized in front of him.

Obi-Wan took it from Qui-Gon with a frown. “Where did this come from?” he asked. Nowhere on Qui-Gon’s person was a sheath for a knife.

“My pouch.”

“This is not a small knife.”

“No, it’s standard for hunting.”

“And you pulled your collapsible spear out of your pouch when you fought the rampurge.”

“Yes.” The look Qui-Gon shot him was questioning, as if asking ‘what’s your point?’

“That is a very small pouch,” Obi-Wan noted.

Comprehension dawned on Qui-Gon’s face. The string, for lack of better word, holding the pouch around his waist was untied and the pouch handed to him. “Look,” Qui-Gon urged.

Obi-Wan did. He pulled the pouch open and peered inside. And gaped. He looked up at Qui-Gon wild-eyed. “How-?”

“It’s one of the tricks of our mystics. I’ve never had much to do with them so I don’t know how they do it. All who have successfully hunted or blooded an enemy in battle gets one. I carry many things in it, but it does have limits,” Qui-Gon told him, delighted to have stumped Obi-Wan.

He took the pouch from Obi-Wan and pulled out object after object. The collapsed spear, a string of shells with a strange knotted pattern in the cord connecting them, a crystal as brilliant as any Kyber crystal mined from Ilum, and various other tokens and things that Obi-Wan had absolutely no idea what they were and what they were for. By the time Qui-Gon finished emptying the pouch, there was a sizeable pile on the sand between them.

“Amazing,” Obi-Wan said awestruck. He picked up the crystal and it hummed in his hand. He palmed it around, looking at it from every angle.

“Here. Let me show you,” Qui-Gon said. He closed Obi-Wan’s hand around the crystal, encasing Obi-Wan’s smaller hand in his own larger one. “Feel deep down within yourself. Your innermost core. Allow your sense of self to come forward, all that makes you Obi-Wan. When you feel harmonious with the air around you, open your eyes and look at the crystal. Tell me what you see.”

Obi-Wan did as he asked. It was a simple enough task, like a meditation exercise taught to younglings. He easily brought his core essence to the surface, opened his eyes and focused his gaze on the crystal. It shone the brilliant blue of his lightsaber blade, like the crystal that gave his lightsaber its deadly power.

The Jedi had searched far and wide for crystals like those found on Ilum. Ilum was a hard journey, far beyond the borders of the Galactic Republic. There were a few that could be substituted but not of the quality of the Kyber crystals of Ilum. What Qui-Gon now showed him rivalled Ilum’s treasure trove.

“Can all your people tap into the crystal’s power?” he asked hoarsely.

Qui-Gon shook his head, eyes sad, looking away. “No. I discovered it quite by accident. Those I tried to teach could not do it, grew frustrated and tried no more. It brought home how different I was to them, how much I was not them. How I was outside.”

Obi-Wan felt a rush of anger but tamped it down immediately. “You are different, yes,” Obi-Wan told him earnestly, using his hand to bring Qui-Gon’s averted face back to him. “Force users are different, but we are not freaks, we are not ‘other’. Special perhaps, but we have emotions, live and love, hurt and die just like everyone else. I’m sorry that you were made to think so, Qui-Gon.”

Qui-Gon gave him a tremulous smile. “The head elder said that my gift was made for the purpose of helping you. That they were sorry that I had spent my life outside of everyone. It wasn’t that they are afraid of me. They just don’t understand me. I was never abused, or ignored, or left wanting. I defended my village and clansmen, hunted, repaired homes and buildings, contributed to my clan. But I was different. No one had ever heard of someone doing the things I could do.” He gave a shrug meant to convey an ‘ah well’ attitude.

Obi-Wan grit his teeth. “Well, I’m glad of it. Now you are with me, helping me, learning with me. I’ll show you how to use the Force, control it, tap into its potential. Since we plan on staying on this island for a few days, we have the time.”

He saw Qui-Gon’s blue eyes light with the fire of an eager student. How often had he seen that in initiates and younglings at the Temple? Though Obi-Wan had yet to take an apprentice, he did his tours of teaching the crechelings. That Qui-Gon was eager to learn meant that Obi-Wan’s task was that much easier.

“I thank you, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said humbly and leaned in for a quick kiss that sent Obi-Wan’s senses reeling.

By all the little gods, the merman was too damned sexy for Obi-Wan’s peace of mind.

* * *

Qui-Gon was perplexed. About the island. About the things that lived on the island. The things Obi-Wan ate that grew on the island. And why Obi-Wan’s face went a delightful shade of pink every time he looked down Qui-Gon’s body. Qui-Gon’s reproductive organs shrunk to the way they were before, which caused him a bit of bemusement, but why his body would be so alarming to Obi-Wan he didn’t understand. Obi-Wan’s comment that it was personal could mean it was a taboo of Obi-Wan’s people that Qui-Gon was unknowingly, and unable to stop, breaking.

Obi-Wan led Qui-Gon to a small ocean of water but it smelled like the water in Obi-Wan’s water holder. And the water that fell from the skies during storms. Obi-Wan drank deeply of the water in the little tiny ocean and then settled down, dangling his feet in it. There was water falling off rocks into the little ocean, which was pretty surrounded by all these plants and flowers.

Qui-Gon wanted to dangle his feet in the water as well but was afraid his tail might come back. If it didn’t turn back into legs, Obi-Wan would have a hard time dragging Qui-Gon back to the big ocean. Best not to risk it.

Instead he looked at the birds in the trees and the strange non-fish things flitting through the plants. The giant plants with rough skins and green on the top Obi-Wan said were trees. The off-worlder ate small things on smaller plants he called berries but Qui-Gon noticed Obi-Wan didn’t eat all the berries, only certain ones. Maybe the others were dangerous. Best stay away from them too.

The birds were very interesting. They weren’t like other birds Qui-Gon had seen. These were bright like fish. Greens, blues, reds, oranges, and colors Qui-Gon had no name for. They made calls and chatter like bellaks, flying and swooping about from tree to tree, entirely unconcerned by he and Obi-Wan’s presence.

“What are these called?” Qui-Gon asked, pointing to a land fish.

“Animal,” Obi-Wan answered after cracking an eye to look where Qui-Gon pointed.

“Do they have a species?” Qui-Gon wondered.

“No idea. I’m new here, remember?” The words were jokingly said and Qui-Gon knew that Obi-Wan wasn’t upset or offended.

“Can you eat them, like fish?”

Obi-Wan considered the question. “I’m not sure. I wondered about that yesterday when I first saw them. Maybe. There are no predators here to eat them, but I’m not sure what they eat. Bugs? Plants? Each other? What they eat determines what they taste like.”

“What are bugs?”

Obi-Wan blew out air in what might be a frustrated manner but answered all the same, “Tiny things. Some live in the earth, some in the plants and trees. Some like to live on top of the water. They have many purposes in the ecosystem. Some help flowers and plants reproduce by taking spores from one to the other. Others serve as part of the food chain. Some their excrement or movement underground helps fertilize and aerate the soil so that things can grow. Bugs is a non-formal version for what they are, which is insect.”

Qui-Gon soaked up this information in fascination.

“And every planet has different ones? They are not universally the same everywhere?”

“Correct. It depends on the planet’s environment, atmosphere, climates and seasons, and the people who mold the environment to their comfort and use. Sometimes those that warp the environment too much for their own personal use can kill animals, fish, plants, and insects when their habitats are destroyed. It’s terrible but not all that unusual.” There was sadness in the Force coming from Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon felt sad too.

He thought a moment and a horrid idea crossed his mind. “You mean kill them until there are none of them left at all?”

There was a hint of anger in Obi-Wan’s sadness now. “Yes.” His answer was short and terse but laden with emotion.

“That’s the most awful thing I’ve ever heard!” Qui-Gon declared.

“I know. I agree, Qui-Gon, but the universe is what it is.” Obi-Wan looked at him. “The planet I live on, not where I was born, but where I was raised as a Jedi and live on, has very little natural world left. It is entirely artificial, and filthy. Dirt everywhere, even in the air, from the things we pollute it with, from our airships and space ships, to the garbage produced by the beings that live there.”

Qui-Gon couldn’t even conceive of such a thing. It sounded like a nightmare.

“Buildings that reach high into the sky, all metal and plastisteel. The animals that survive are not native. All the native animals of the planet are long since dead. These animals people brought with them from their own planets, something familiar that got loose, bred, and are now wild among the buildings and people, scavenging to survive.” Obi-Wan’s voice turned morose. “It’s so ugly you can’t even see the stars.”

Reflexively Qui-Gon looked up, but it was daylight and of course there were no stars to be seen. Yet still Qui-Gon couldn’t imagine not seeing stars in the night sky if he was on the surface. Admittedly that wasn’t often.

“Why would anyone want to live there?” Qui-Gon couldn’t help but ask.

“Some because they can’t leave. Others come on purpose to serve in government or to take advantage of those that can’t leave and are desperate. Some don’t care and just like to be around a lot of people. And Coruscant has a lot of people. Billions.”

“That’s more than there are stars in the sky,” Qui-Gon said with awe.

Obi-Wan’s expressive lips quirked into a smile. “Well, more stars than you can see at one time, yes.”

Qui-Gon shuffled closer to Obi-Wan, careful not to get his legs in the water, drawing them up to his chest and bracing his chin on the lower joints that bent. “Tell me about other worlds. Are there water worlds like mine?”

Obi-Wan’s smile was more genuine. “Oh sure. My best friend, Bant Eerin, she comes from a water world. Her people are called Mon Calamarians. She doesn’t look like you. She has a more fish-like countenance, but like you she can breathe underwater and air. Oh, and she has legs too. But she’s very graceful and quick in the water. She taught me how to swim when we were younglings. Like you, Bant says I swim clumsy, but it’s how we humans do it, so…” Here Obi-Wan gave a shrug that clearly conveyed ‘what can you do?’

“And other worlds?”

“Lots of trees like this island, some with constant rains. Places that get no rain and have little water, dry and harsh, sand blowing in your face, getting in your teeth, hot as a fire. Large land masses rising into the sky called mountains with cold water that is solid called snow and ice. Some planets far away from their sun are nothing but cold and snow and ice all the time. Some planets have one moon, some have many moons, and some have no moons at all. Different kinds of suns, depending on the chemical make-up of them.”

Qui-Gon felt a moment of sorrow. Obi-Wan knew and had seen so much. His knowledge of how things worked was vast. Qui-Gon felt ignorant and stupid. Sure, he knew how to fight with a spear, but it was nothing like Obi-Wan’s two lightning blades. And Qui-Gon couldn’t fly in the stars to see other worlds. He was stuck here, living what must seem to Obi-Wan like a primitive, backward existence. Once Obi-Wan left here, Qui-Gon and his ocean would be an interesting little happenstance, easily forgotten about as new and more exciting things happened to him.

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan coming here was a life-changing event for Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon’s treacherous thoughts that maybe Obi-Wan could help Qui-Gon make all his seeming unrealistic dreams over the years come true was fantasy. He was a guide, a means to escape, for Obi-Wan. True, they could be considered friends, but once Obi-Wan’s people came for him, Qui-Gon would never see his beautiful off-worlder ever again.

Tears stabbed his eyes and he buried his face in his bent legs to hide them.

He couldn’t hide his feelings in the Force, though, and Obi-Wan picked them up.

Obi-Wan’s arms went around Qui-Gon’s shoulders and his breath brushed Qui-Gon’s ear. “What’s wrong? Why are you so sad? Did I say something?”

Qui-Gon couldn’t speak but shook his head frantically to deny Obi-Wan’s last question. Uncertain how to express himself with words, he sent through their Force link his despair, loneliness, and understanding that he wasn’t good enough for Obi-Wan.

And Obi-Wan, perfect being that he was, understood.

“Oh, Qui-Gon.” Obi-Wan’s arms tightened around him, pulling him close to Obi-Wan’s warm body. “I know. I understand. Anything can happen, Qui-Gon, anything at all.” Obi-Wan attempted to inject some levity into the situation. “I mean, yesterday you didn’t know you could grow legs! Who knows what is waiting for you in the future.”

Qui-Gon raised his tear-stained face and looked into Obi-Wan’s more hopeful one. He gave into his desire and pressed his lips to Obi-Wan’s again. It was tentative, hopeful, and perhaps a bit fearful. But his beautiful off-worlder kissed him back, sinking his hands into Qui-Gon’s tangled hair, slanting his mouth and deepening the kiss. How long they kissed, Qui-Gon wasn’t sure. It seemed forever and not very long at all.

Obi-Wan pulled back, those eyes the color of Qui-Gon’s missing tail contemplative. He licked his lips and leaned in to kiss Obi-Wan again but Obi-Wan stopped him. Qui-Gon felt a spike of hurt but it went away immediately when Obi-Wan brushed a hand down Qui-Gon’s chest and tweaked a nipple. The reproductive organs between Qui-Gon’s legs stirred much like they had this morning when Qui-Gon was full-body pressed against a sleeping Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan’s other hand tipped Qui-Gon’s head back, exposing his throat. Obi-Wan bent down and gave little kisses and nips to his neck, Qui-Gon quivering and gasping at the wondrous sensations this brought him. Soon Obi-Wan was pressing Qui-Gon onto his back, exploring Qui-Gon’s entire body with hands and mouth, a hand kneading and teasing the reproductive organs until the long one was hard and erect.

The People didn’t mate for pleasure, at least not often. There were ways to bring about bodily pleasure, sure, but the actual sex act was reserved for reproduction. Due to his ‘otherness’ Qui-Gon had only given himself pleasure. He’d accepted it as a sad fact of life, trying not to resent anyone for it. But Obi-Wan as like him, Force sensitive. He understood Qui-Gon as no one had ever done, not even Qui-Gon’s parents. Obi-Wan also knew how to pleasure a male of his species, if the way Obi-Wan was giving Qui-Gon pleasure meant anything.

Qui-Gon drifted on the tingling, enjoyable sensations flittering like small bright fish from Obi-Wan’s touches. He came up in shock when what could only be Obi-Wan’s mouth on his large reproductive organ. When Qui-Gon jerked, Obi-Wan reared back but he was laughing, not angry.

“What are you doing?” demanded Qui-Gon suspiciously.

“Well, I was going to swallow you down and make you come,” Obi-Wan said mischievously, “but I guess you didn’t like it?”

Qui-Gon considered. It hadn’t been a bad sensation, the warm wet heat of Obi-Wan’s mouth. “It just surprised me, that’s all,” Qui-Gon concluded out loud. He stretched back out and gave Obi-Wan a determined look. “You may continue, if you want.”

Obi-Wan’s colorful eyes were swallowed by his black pupils in what could only be lust. “Oh, I want,” his off-worlder assured him.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and concentrated on his body’s sensations once more.

Obi-Wan was a tease. He licked, nibbled lightly, blew cooling breaths of air on overly sensitive skin, and stroked with his hand, gathering up some liquid from the top of the reproductive organ that made his hand less rough. Qui-Gon was certain Obi-Wan was going to drive him mad. He didn’t know what he wanted and begged Obi-Wan to do something with pleadings of “please, Obi-Wan, please” over and over again.

The hands and mouth fell away and there was movement. Qui-Gon, panting from the overload of feelings his body was going through, popped open his eyes to see what Obi-Wan was doing.

Obi-Wan was taking off his outer things. All of them.

Qui-Gon thought Obi-Wan had a problem with bare bodies, but apparently this was not the case. The off-worlder stood there, smirking down at Qui-Gon, his own reproductive organ arched up to his belly and leaking the same fluid that Qui-Gon’s did.

“Sex between two males is sometimes painful,” Obi-Wan told him as he straddled Qui-Gon’s body. “Lots of preparation is needed, but there are other, less painful and just as pleasurable, ways to find completion.”

Qui-Gon swallowed and raised his hands, brushing the erect nipples on Obi-Wan’s chest. “Show me,” he said huskily.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes at Qui-Gon’s touch, gasping and arching, giving the Nandian a rush of power. He could make Obi-Wan feel like he made Qui-Gon feel. After a few moments, though, Obi-Wan grabbed Qui-Gon’s teasing hands and lay full length on Qui-Gon, their reproductive organs bumping and rubbing against each other in a pleasingly erotic manner.

Obi-Wan continued to move, the rubbing building a tension in Qui-Gon that he didn’t understand but instinctively knew wasn’t bad, could only lead to something good. Obi-Wan’s snuck a hand between them and grasped both their members, using the wetness they created as a lubricant, and increasing the tension in both of them.

“I-I-I-Obi-Wan,” gasped Qui-Gon, unable to articulate what he wanted to say, what he wanted to happen, what he was feeling.

“Let go,” urged Obi-Wan, his voice also sounding strained.

“How?” cried Qui-Gon desperately.

He felt Obi-Wan push what the off-worlder was feeling in his head, sending Qui-Gon’s senses soaring out of control. Sparks flashed behind his closed eyes and his body arched and shuddered as it felt like he exploded. “Like this,” Obi-Wan panted and Qui-Gon was overcome by Obi-Wan exploding too.

Coming down from wherever Obi-Wan had taken Qui-Gon took a bit. Qui-Gon twitched like he was having earthquake aftershocks every time Obi-Wan shuddered against him as well. When he had enough presence of mind to evaluate his body and his surroundings, there was a wet stickiness squishing between them.

It was kind of gross.

Qui-Gon grimaced and opened his eyes to see Obi-Wan watching him with a careful, cautious expression. Qui-Gon panicked, thinking Obi-Wan was regretting their interlude. Obi-Wan smiled then, a bright sunny smile with just a hint of smugness.

“Good for you?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Yes. Very much so,” Qui-Gon said honestly.

“I think taking my shirt, getting it wet, and wiping us off shouldn’t trigger a change in you. Our release is going to dry and be disgusting on our skin.” Obi-Wan then did as he said, wiping them both off, being careful not to touch water to Qui-Gon’s legs.

They were silent after that, companionably gathering Obi-Wan’s things and heading back to the beach. The news once there was not good.

Qui-Gon looked at the darkening sky in the distance that heralded a storm with alarm and trepidation. He looked at Obi-Wan, who gave him a wry look. “Well, I guess we’re testing the water on your legs theory a bit sooner than anticipated.”

Qui-Gon swallowed and nodded. Time to see what his unknown new nature could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot take credit for Qui-Gon's pouch. I'm a roleplaying geek and I stole the concept from the bag of holding. The bag, a rare but AWESOME, is equipment in Dungeons & Dragons, Pathfinder, and other role playing games, it's interior is actually an interdimensional or nondimensional space. Depending on the type of bag, there could be limits to how much it holds or it's completely unlimited, by size and number of items. As you can imagine, the latter is EXPENSIVE, UBER RARE, and all character parties DREAM of having one. Hermione's little purse in Harry Potter is of a similar concept, which often makes me wonder if Jo Rowling has indulged in a little bit of role playing herself. However, it's likely not specific to roleplaying as a concept. I'm sure it's popped up in other fantasy and sci-fi realms even before Gary Gygax invented D&D in the 1970s. But roleplaying is where I got the idea and absconded with it for Qui-Gon. I wanted to show that though he is 'primitive' due the limited resources of his environment and physiology in water, Qui-Gon and his people are actually not 'primitive'. His collapsible spear and the pouch show their own brand of technology, plus it might be noted he mined that crystal he carries, it wasn't just laying around somewhere. I didn't mention it, however, but thought I would note that little headcanon here.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It can't always be roses and sunshine, though Qui-Gon has no idea what a rose is.

Obi-Wan wished like hell he had a tent. It probably would be useless in what looked like a hurricane coming fast toward their island, but he wished it all the same. Obi-Wan’s nervousness was bolstered by Qui-Gon’s outright fear. Obi-Wan wished he could force Qui-Gon into the ocean, see if the Nandian’s tail fins returned, that way Qui-Gon could dive deep and avoid the surface chaos. Obi-Wan could go inland, find a cave (maybe) and hunker down until the storm blew over. Instead he had a man new to his body of unknown physiology and little to no knowledge of the surface of his planet that Obi-Wan had to shelter and protect.

‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this,’ he thought to himself. Out loud, though, he said, “Come. We need to find some sort of shelter.”

Despite Qui-Gon’s fearful trepidation, the Nandian nodded bravely, helped gather up Obi-Wan’s things, and followed Obi-Wan back into the trees. The wind was picking up by the time they reached the fresh water pool. Obi-Wan led Qui-Gon around it, gritting his teeth as Qui-Gon, with surprising nimbleness, jumped the little stream the pool fed into, and they went deeper inland. Obi-Wan tapped into the Force, all but begging it to give him some sort of direction, a place to go, the shelter they needed.

He closed his eyes, conscious of Qui-Gon’s rapt attention, and focused his will. Moving sure-footedly Obi-Wan walked, the Force telling him where to put his feet, where the treacherous sections were, and led them to an overhang of rock. Obi-Wan opened his eyes and scanned the area with a frown. It wasn’t much but it was better than nothing. He gestured Qui-Gon inside, where the taller man huddled on his haunches against the back, gazing around with wary interest.

Obi-Wan dumped the fruits and nuts he’d gathered into his rucksack and used his outer tunic to cover Qui-Gon’s nakedness. At the Nandian’s confused look, Obi-Wan merely said, “Trust me. If the storm becomes violent, you’re going to want that part of your body covered for protection. It’s not only sensitive to passion but also pain and temperature.”

Qui-Gon nodded and draped the tunic around his waist as best he could.

The wind was now a howl, bursting through the trees with great ferocity. Obi-Wan knew, though, that it was going to get much, much worse. The island’s animals had gone to ground and the birds were either sheltering in sturdy trees or were attempting to outfly the storm. Or so Obi-Wan assumed; there was no hint of life anywhere in sight.

The wind plastering his clothes to his body and blowing his hair wildly, Obi-Wan scanned the area for some way to block their somewhat haphazard refuge. He would take even a good size boulder he could Force levitate into position. There was nothing and the incoming storm’s piercing rain drops drove him under the rock overhang again with a nervous Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon’s face was calm, but Obi-Wan could feel the Nandian’s uncertainty in the Force. Not feeling exactly safe himself, Obi-Wan settled close to Qui-Gon, wrapped an arm around the Nandian’s waist and rested his head on Qui-Gon’s shoulder. “We’re just going to have to wait it out,” he said over the roaring din. He felt Qui-Gon nod, grabbed Qui-Gon’s hand, trying to relax the clenched fist to lace their fingers together. “It will be all right,” Obi-Wan said with a confidence he didn’t feel.

The sky was dark as pitch, no moonlight or sunlight leaking through. The wind grew so fierce, smaller trees were uprooted; they could see them blown away. Obi-Wan stretched out his weaker touch of the Living Force and felt the animals and birds of the island’s terror. Some of them died in the unforgiving storm’s fury. Obi-Wan pulled away from the Living Force, not wanting to feel that anymore.

Something occurred to him. Qui-Gon was Force sensitive. What part of the Force was he attuned to? There was no way to find out, since it required conversation, but Obi-Wan tapped into the slight bond they had to gauge Qui-Gon’s emotions.

Terror. Sorrow. Pain. Resignation.

The last emotion made Obi-Wan frown. What was Qui-Gon resigned about?

Obi-Wan peered into the darkness to see if he could make out Qui-Gon’s facial features. In the lightning flashes, Obi-Wan saw an expression that he’d seen on many a warrior culture the galaxy over. Preparation to meet his death.

Qui-Gon had never lived through such a climatic event. Being from the sea, when the surface got difficult, he just went underwater. The Nandian’s muscles were tense but Obi-Wan could tell that his breathing was even. If the flight response of ‘fight or flight’ kicked in, how would Obi-Wan stop Qui-Gon from running out into the storm?

A crack of thunder, a lightning strike, and the rocks over their heads shuddered. Qui-Gon tried to bolt, but Obi-Wan held fast, soothing the other man through the Force. Obi-Wan pressed his mouth against Qui-Gon’s ear and said gently, “It’s all right. It can’t get you. I won’t let it hurt you.”

He wasn’t sure Qui-Gon heard but the Nandian’s muscles relaxed a bit, his instinct to run eased, and Obi-Wan had a mostly naked Nandian burying his face in Obi-Wan’s chest. Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around Qui-Gon tight, stroking soothingly while he listened to nature rage around them.

Eventually, they fell asleep.

Obi-Wan jerked awake, cold, wet and alone. He had a crick in his neck from how his head had been dangling while he slept in an upright position. He crawled out from the rock overhang and looked around for a tall, long-haired man, but could find no sign of Qui-Gon anywhere.

“Qui-Gon?” he called, picking his way through the debris the storm left behind. There was no answer but there was intense feeling of sorrow directly in front of him. He moved that way.

Qui-Gon was sitting in the leaves and dirt, motionless. It looked like he held something in his hands. Obi-Wan drew closer and, when he got within two feet of Qui-Gon, the other raised his head. Tears were streaming down his face, causing Obi-Wan to frown and crouch down in concern.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded, sliding his hands down Qui-Gon’s arms.

“Can you use the Force to save it?” asked Qui-Gon in a broken voice.

Obi-Wan’s frown increased, this time in confusion, and he looked more closely to what Qui-Gon had in his hands.

It was one of the small rodent-type inhabitants of the island, smaller than most that he’d seen so likely it was young. It lay as if dead in Qui-Gon’s cupped palms but there was a faint rise and fall of its body. It breathed, but barely.

This answered Obi-Wan’s question: Qui-Gon was aligned with the Living Force, which made sense, considering he was of a civilization entirely dependent upon its natural surroundings.

Obi-Wan swallowed. “I don’t know, Qui-Gon,” he began hesitantly but Qui-Gon interrupted him.

“You healed my wound from the rampurge, took away it’s venom. Surely this is no different!” the Nandian pleaded.

“I’m not a miracle-worker,” Obi-Wan told him softly, brushing a strand of hair behind Qui-Gon’s ear. “I can try, but I cannot guarantee I will succeed. It depends on how hurt it is.”

“Try,” Qui-Gon urged and placed the small, wet, furry beast in Obi-Wan’s hands.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, focused on the little animal, and began a scan. Broken bones, internal bleeding, unconscious from the pain. His heart sank. The extent of this little creature’s injuries was well-beyond Obi-Wan’s meager skills at healing.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes to see Qui-Gon staring at the little animal with anxious hope. That faded as Obi-Wan felt the little animal die in his hands. Bewildered, Qui-Gon looked up at him. Obi-Wan closed his eyes again, swallowed, and then opened them to see Qui-Gon looking at him accusingly.

“You didn’t even try!” Qui-Gon’s words were like a blaster bolt through the trees.

“Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan began.

“What, because it cannot speak, it’s not worth saving?” Qui-Gon’s words were hard, accusing. Betrayal filtered through their slight bond.

“It was too hurt, Qui-Gon. The little one’s injuries were too great,” Obi-Wan protested. He set the now deceased animal down, dug a small hole, put it within and buried it reverently. Qui-Gon watched him the whole time, fairly vibrating with outrage.

“What is this Force good for if not to save the weak and injured?” Qui-Gon demanded furiously.

Obi-Wan tried to frame Qui-Gon’s face in his hands but the Nandian drew back in obvious distaste. “Qui-Gon, I can’t save everyone. The Force can’t save everyone and everything from the cycle of life. Nature has to play out. I know the little one was hurt and dying. I understand you sensed it, but the Force is not a cure for all the galaxy’s ills.”

“I want no more of it,” Qui-Gon spat, lurching to his feet, the tunic around his waist dropping to the ground unheeded. “I will use it to help you to your communication device, see you to your people. I don’t want it anymore after.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to say something, though what he wasn’t sure, but Qui-Gon was stalking off into the brush, unerringly back the way they’d come. Obi-Wan’s heart sank. Qui-Gon was reacting to new stimuli, the Jedi knew, but how did he make Qui-Gon understand that the Force wasn’t this all- powerful thing that could do anything you wanted it to do? While the Force itself had no limits, the one who tapped into it did.

Heaving a sigh, Obi-Wan went back to their erstwhile shelter, gathered his rucksack, shoved the tunic back into the bag, and trailed after Qui-Gon. As he passed the pool of water, it was no long clear, but muddied and had debris floating in it. Even the waterfall had a distinctly brownish look to it. The island had fulfilled its purpose and was of little further use to Obi-Wan.

Before he reached the beach, he relieved himself. Once onto the sandy edge of the island, Obi-Wan looked about for Qui-Gon. There, just out of reach of the crashing waves stood the Nandian. The line of his body betrayed his apprehension and before Obi-Wan could do or say anything, Qui-Gon ran into the water and dove.

Obi-Wan stretched out his Force sense but Qui-Gon had somehow figured out how to block him. The shields were rudimentary but the meaning was obvious: leave me alone. Obi-Wan scanned the vast water before him, but saw nothing. Worry crept in. Had Qui-Gon’s tail not returned? Was Qui-Gon drowning? Just as panic was getting ready to take hold, a glittering blue-green tail emerged from the ocean a short distance away, seemed to wave at Obi-Wan, and then disappeared.

Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief. While the Nandian’s physiology was a mystery for the ages, at least they could continue, despite Qui-Gon’s disgust with Obi-Wan at the moment. He stood for a long while before finally plopping onto the sand. Waiting.

The sun wasn’t quite overhead when Obi-Wan heard a disgruntled shout. “The Drift is not far and I know of some rocks you can sleep on during the night. Shall we go?”

Obi-Wan wanted to object and gave it serious consideration before discarding the notion. This little strip of paradise was gone, both between them and for Obi-Wan’s physical needs. Qui-Gon was right. It was time to move on.

He put on the life preserver, pulled the pack onto his back, waded into the salty sea until he had to swim and met Qui-Gon halfway. With an unreadable expression, Qui-Gon turned around so that Obi-Wan could grasp his shoulders and be towed along like before. There was no friendliness, no sense of eager cooperation; there was bitter disappointment and dreams shattered.

Obi-Wan tamped down his sorrow. He could only do what he could do. It wasn’t his fault Qui-Gon had unrealistic expectations. But, he noted wryly to himself, it _was_ Obi-Wan’s fault that Qui-Gon didn’t understand the limitations of what one could do with the Force. He’d only seen that Obi-Wan could do fantastical, out-of-the-ordinary things. He’d never seen Obi-Wan fail. The problem, Obi-Wan ruminated as he surfed on Qui-Gon’s back through the now calm ocean, was how to show Qui-Gon that.

* * *

Qui-Gon was angry. Qui-Gon was betrayed. And Qui-Gon was confused. He needed to set aside his emotional turmoil though because it was a distraction. With the Drift dead ahead, it’s current already pulling at him, Qui-Gon knew he had to be focused, not distracted. The closer they got, the harder it was for Qui-Gon. He turned back the way they came until he was in waters safe enough for Obi-Wan to remove himself from Qui-Gon’s bodily protection.

Qui-Gon ignored Obi-Wan’s earnest expression and said gruffly, “The Drift is ahead. It’s not a deep stream but still too deep for you. If the information the elders gave me is correct, I should be able to fight my way through to the rocks for your resting place for the night. It will also give me a lee spot so I’m not swept away while I sleep.”

Obi-Wan became thoughtful. “It makes sense,” he agreed. “How long are we in the Drift before we can get to this island with the communication devices?”

“Midday tomorrow,” Qui-Gon said with a concentrated frown, reviewing the information that had been painfully chanted into his memories. “And then another day and a half to the island.”

“Then let’s go!” Obi-Wan tried to smile at Qui-Gon but he ignored it, gestured for Obi-Wan to resume his spot and they took off.

The current was powerful, sweeping along everything in its path. Surprisingly, however, Qui-Gon had no issues keeping himself and Obi-Wan enough above water that the off-worlder wasn’t overcome. He allowed the current to carry them, only course-correcting with his tail when he needed too. It wasn’t restful but it was less work than towing Obi-Wan through the open water had been.

As glorious as having his tail back was, Qui-Gon missed his legs a little bit.

The mental map pinged in his mind and Qui-Gon began to fight sideways through the current. It was hard swimming and a couple times he had to backtrack against the current completely. By the time they reached the rocks jutting from the sea, Qui-Gon was absolutely exhausted. The current wasn’t as strong here but he made sure Obi-Wan got up out of the water, Qui-Gon’s hands heated at the feel of Obi-Wan’s body, the hard plane of the off-worlder’s muscles flexing almost erotically.

Once Obi-Wan was on the rocks, Qui-Gon began to sink beneath the surface. He paused at Obi-Wan’s frantic “Wait!” He reluctantly braced himself on the rock ledge and looked at the off-worlder.

Obi-Wan looked dismayed. “Is this-“ Obi-Wan swallowed. “Is this it?”

Qui-Gon was confused a moment. “Yes,” he said tersely.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to say something and then nodded his head in resignation. “Better than nothing, I suppose,” he said instead.

Qui-Gon arched an eyebrow at him and, without a word, sank below the surface. He maneuvered himself as he’d told Obi-Wan he would in the lee of the rocks, away from the bulk of the current. There were few fish, none of which were familiar to Qui-Gon so he let them swim by. He was ravenous but exhaustion won out over hunger and he fell into a deep slumber.

His last thought was he wished he was in Obi-Wan’s arms again. He’d never felt so safe.

* * *

Obi-Wan was alone on a rock barely large enough to sit on. How the hell he was supposed to lie down and sleep was beyond him. It wasn’t Qui-Gon or the Nandian elders’ fault, of course, but something told Obi-Wan that he was going to need all the sleep he could get for tomorrow. He wiggled around, not even bothering to move the rucksack off his back and curled into a tight fetal position. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

It wasn’t happening. That sense of foreboding was getting stronger. He popped his eyes open and looked up at the sky in a panic. Was it another storm? The sky wasn’t clear, the moons obscured by clouds, but it didn’t have the look of a storm, or even rain.

There was little marine life in the ocean around him. He could register Qui-Gon in the Force, shielded though he was, but other than a few fish, there was nothing.

Obi-Wan settled down again and put a Force suggestion on himself, something he didn’t like doing but necessity demanded it. He was soon asleep.

_Red and blue lightning sizzled against each other. Darkness permeated everything around him but somewhere distant, afraid yet defiant, was Light. He had to win, for both of them. It was more than a battle for immediate survival but the future of the people of this world. The pressure was building, it felt like his head was going to explode, the Force pulsating like multitudes of heartbeats, a voice deep in his mind telling him he could do it, he could do anything. That Qui-Gon loved him, believed in him. He gave one last desperate movement, felt the pain and sent back a request for forgiveness…_

Obi-Wan woke with a jolt, almost falling off his little bit of rock. He was breathing heavy, as if he’d just fought that battle in reality. He shivered. The Darkness had been so real, trying to swamp his senses, force him to surrender, to give up, to become one with it.

He ran a hand down his face, finding it wet with tears and sweat, his beard all but drenched. Wet strands of hair stuck to his cheek and neck, caught on his eyelashes.

By all the little gods, what was that?

Light was fingering its way along the horizon, signaling the coming dawn. Feeling worn out, Obi-Wan fumbled through his pack for a nutrient bar, some squished berries, and smashed a couple of nuts open with the hilt of his lightsaber. He washed it down with a healthy couple of swigs of water. Rationing be damned. Something was coming, something dark, something evil. Obi-Wan needed to be ready for it.

He and Qui-Gon’s lives depended on it.

The sun was peeking out when Obi-Wan heard a splashing behind him. Qui-Gon was tearing into a weak looking fish and Obi-Wan felt an irrational anger. Qui-Gon picked up the emotion and frowned at him.

“You’ll eat a helpless fish without a thought but when I can’t save a small, nearly dead animal, I’m the next thing to evil?” he snapped.

Qui-Gon blinked in surprise at Obi-Wan’s tone. He opened his mouth to respond but Obi-Wan slashed a hand through the air to stop him. “Forget it. You done?” Qui-Gon gave a wide-eyed nod. “Then let’s go. The sooner I get there, the sooner I call for help, the sooner you’re rid of me.”

Obi-Wan felt a brief stab of remorse at Qui-Gon’s brief hurt look but ignored both as he slipped into the water and positioned himself behind Qui-Gon. Soon, they were back in the Drift. Obi-Wan nursed his self-righteous pique, despite the growing remorse at his attitude, but could still sense very little from Qui-Gon. The Nandian’s shields were getting stronger.

Midday came sooner than Obi-Wan expected, Qui-Gon turning them sideways in the current, fighting their way out of it. It was hard going. Obi-Wan could feel the strain in Qui-Gon’s body as he pulled both himself and his human cargo out of the Drift. Obi-Wan’s knowledge of oceanography was limited to what Bant told him and a brief class in it as an apprentice. This seemed a small current drift but as there were no major land masses on Nandia, perhaps they didn’t need to be huge. Again, he wondered just where on the planet they were in relation to the poles and then shook off the notion as unimportant at the moment.

Once clear, Qui-Gon sagged. Obi-Wan kicked free, which caused the Nandian to turn in alarm. Seeing Obi-Wan was not being attacked and unharmed, Qui-Gon gave him a wry look that hinted that perhaps Qui-Gon’s upset with Obi-Wan was fading. Obi-Wan frowned at him anyway, clasped Qui-Gon’s shoulders again and they moved on at a much easier, slower pace.

The rocks Qui-Gon brought Obi-Wan too were even smaller than the last ones. Obi-Wan clambered up with great dismay, pulled his feet up to his chest, and brooded. He could feel Qui-Gon’s eyes on him, evaluating his mood, but he refused to look at the merman. Qui-Gon gave a great sigh and a hint of a splash told Obi-Wan that Qui-Gon sank down beneath the surface.

This discord between them couldn’t continue, Obi-Wan acknowledged sulkily to himself. Not if whatever danger he sensed coming was indeed true. They needed to mend their hurt feelings, talk things out. Obi-Wan needed to explain to Qui-Gon, now that he could tell the Nandian would listen.

But not right now. Morning would be good enough. Obi-Wan tried to curl up, but the rocks were too uneven and the surface much too small. He crunched back into his upright, bent-kneed position, rested his head on his knees and tried to sleep. When that didn’t work, he sank into a deep meditation.


	8. Chapter 8

Qui-Gon slept poorly that night, Obi-Wan’s hard words echoing over and over in his mind. _“You’ll eat a helpless fish without a thought but when I can’t save a small, nearly dead animal, I’m the next thing to evil?”_ Qui-Gon realized that Obi-Wan was right. He’d known the animal was dying, could feel it, but it had been so soft and young and Obi-Wan had healed Qui-Gon’s rampurge injury so easily, he thought…

‘No,’ Qui-Gon berated himself, ‘you assumed that Obi-Wan could do anything. If that was true, he wouldn’t have been stranded in ocean.’ Everyone had their limits, their talents, their strengths and weaknesses. Qui-Gon was so enthralled by Obi-Wan being like him and knowing so much about it that Qui-Gon wanted Obi-Wan to be omnipotent. To teach him to be omnipotent.

That was pride and The People had a saying about pride: “Proud people breed sorrows for themselves.”

He could tell it was morning by the internal clock all of The People had. He snatched up a couple of fish, ate his morning meal with only a twinge of guilt, and surfaced. Obi-Wan was sitting on his rock, body hunched and looking extremely uncomfortable. It probably had been, Qui-Gon thought with another pang of guilt. Having experienced a body like Obi-Wan’s, Qui-Gon knew that the rock was far from an adequate place to rest.

He knew Obi-Wan heard him surface but the off-worlder was studiously ignoring him, his annoyance obvious. Qui-Gon cast about in his mind for something to say and came up empty. Instead he braced an arm on the rock ledge and peered up in pathetic apology to the man he was certain he was coming to love.

Obi-Wan was everything he’d dreamed of in a mate: considerate, passionate, and giving. He was also seemingly incapable of such arrogance that, despite his vast knowledge of the universe off-world, he trusted that Qui-Gon would help him, do his best to guide Obi-Wan to safety and rescue. This last word made Qui-Gon sad. After the way he acted on their little island, undoubtedly Obi-Wan did wish for rescue now.

It was too much to hope that Obi-Wan would want to stay here with Qui-Gon forever. The sunset-haired off-worlder belonged to the universe, not some strange outsider to his own people.

Something of Qui-Gon’s rapidly cycling emotions must have leaked through, for Obi-Wan turned his head slightly and darted a look at Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon increased his pathetic, apologetic look. Obi-Wan’s mouth quirked into a smile and before Qui-Gon could blink, his beautiful off-worlder was kissing him.

He melted into the kiss, snaking his arm to Obi-Wan’s lower leg where the foot and leg met. He was sure it had a word but that was not the least bit interesting at the moment. What was more interesting was that Obi-Wan was making these little whimpering sounds as they plundered each other’s mouths. Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan’s leg muscles flex. Running his hand down to Obi-Wan’s toes, they were curling up.

They pulled from the kiss, Obi-Wan nipping at Qui-Gon’s lower lip before doing so. They stared at each other for a long moment, studying each other and pushing their feelings of apology and regret to each other. Obi-Wan caressed Qui-Gon’s face and then looked around.

“Where do we go from here?” he asked huskily. The tone made Qui-Gon’s tail quiver and his flesh to prickle.

“We should reach the communications island today,” Qui-Gon told him with a hint of anxiety.

If Obi-Wan picked up on it, he didn’t show it. He nodded thoughtfully and laced their fingers together, rubbing his thumb softly against Qui-Gon’s. When Obi-Wan sighed, it sounded regretful. “I’ve eaten. I ate all the rest of my nuts and berries as well as one nutrient bar.” He hesitated and then turned to Qui-Gon, serious and intent.

He had Qui-Gon’s undivided attention.

“I sense something in the Force, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan said slowly, as if choosing his words for greatest effect. “A danger, a great one. I tried to have the Force give me a vision,” and here he smiled a self-deprecating smile, “but it didn’t work. The Force can be stubborn sometimes.”

“You can make the Force show you things?” Qui-Gon asked.

Obi-Wan shrugged. “Not often,” he admitted, “but on rare occasions, it will grant you a heads-up. Usually my visions are uncontrollable, more often than not when I meditate or in my sleep. I couldn’t sleep here,” and Obi-Wan knocked his knuckles on the rock he sat on, “so I meditated. I don’t know if it’s in the ocean or on the island or even whoever comes to pick me up.” Obi-Wan took a deep breath. “We must be careful.”

Qui-Gon nodded his understanding. “We will keep all our senses alert in the water. We will explore the island with great care.” At the second ‘we’ Obi-Wan gave Qui-Gon a sharp glance but said nothing. “As for the other…” Qui-Gon let his sentence trail off. What could he say, other than watching Obi-Wan fly back to his stars would hurt Qui-Gon unbearably?

Obi-Wan slipped into the water, assumed his usual position, giving Qui-Gon’s shoulders an affectionate squeeze and a kiss, and they were off once more. Despite the inevitable parting ahead of them, Qui-Gon felt lighter now that they had patched up their quarrel. Sort of. They forgave each other at least.

The day progressed and the constant alertness along with his physical exertions was tiring Qui-Gon quickly. They stopped three times for Qui-Gon to rest a moment, eat if he needed to, and just hold each other. The last was awkward with Obi-Wan’s layers but Qui-Gon didn’t care. He would take what he could get for his memory trove.

The smell of land and the call of birds rotating in the sky above them warned Qui-Gon they were near. He could sense a full variety of many fish and other beings living in the coral shelf around the island. A few predatory beings patrolled there as well, but none large enough to want to tangle with both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan.

He went as far as he dared and stopped. Obi-Wan slipped off his back and looked at the island. Qui-Gon didn’t like the place. It felt disturbed and unnatural. Strange buildings dotted the shoreline, sturdy-looking, but made from materials Qui-Gon had never seen before. The whole place made his skin crawl and he wanted to take Obi-Wan, dive deep, leave this place, and never come back. He looked at Obi-Wan to ask what they were going to do next.

There was a hint of trepidation in Obi-Wan’s Force signature but it was his expression that gave Qui-Gon pause. It looked like fear wavering on his brave off-worlder’s face.

* * *

The island reeked of the Dark Side.

Obi-Wan’s senses were bombarded with it. He could pick up Qui-Gon’s unease but knew the Nandian had no idea what this meant. Obi-Wan himself wasn’t sure what it meant, either, other than someone powerful in the Dark Side had been one of those who initiated contact with the underwater civilization of this planet. It gave the existence of the Sith lightsaber a whole new meaning.

Obi-Wan had no idea what lay ahead and he desperately wanted to order Qui-Gon to remain safe in the ocean. He knew, though, that Qui-Gon would refuse. His handsome Nandian would stand beside Obi-Wan no matter what. Heartening though that was, it also made Obi-Wan’s heart quake.

Nothing could happen to Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan refused to examine that thought too closely. It smacked of attachment, no matter how right it felt. Jedi rejected attachment, but Obi-Wan had an inkling it was a bit too late for him.

He returned his attention to the gloom permeating the island before them.

“Why is it so unnatural?” Qui-Gon whispered.

Obi-Wan straightened his shoulders and managed not to flinch when something brushed his right foot. “Because it is full of the Dark Side,” he answered in what he hoped was a calm manner.

“Like the Sith?” Qui-Gon’s question was naïve yet insightful.

“Yes.” Obi-Wan couldn’t elaborate further.

Apparently, he didn’t need to. Qui-Gon pondered for a moment. “Two spears are better than one.”

Which Obi-Wan took as “you are not going there without me so forget about it”. He did have the two lightsabers, his own and the Sith one Qui-Gon had given him. How wieldy the Sith saber was, who knew, but Obi-Wan figured he could, hopefully, adjust to it if there was fight before them. He was familiar with Jar’Kai, the art of the two blades, but no expert. Qui-Gon was so ungainly on land that Obi-Wan honestly doubted Qui-Gon would be much help and might likely be more of a hindrance, but selfishly, Obi-Wan did not want to face that island without the Nandian.

Obi-Wan swished about in the water to turn himself to face Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon, in turn, seemed to just rotate gracefully to face Obi-Wan. “Will you let me go first, scout around, make sure there is nothing to harm us?”

Qui-Gon’s expression turned stubborn. He opened his mouth to deny Obi-Wan’s request and then hesitated. Obi-Wan could see Qui-Gon’s quick mind evaluating scenarios. The Nandian was unhappy with what he came up with but nodded grudgingly. “If there is a fight there, I will distract you.” He motioned vaguely at his lower areas. “During the pain of my transformation, I have no protection, and, I think, your lightning sword would easily cut apart my spear. You would have to fight to defend and protect needlessly, whereas without me, you can fight to gain ground.” Qui-Gon’s impossibly blue eyes turned worried and remorseful. “I will stay. Perhaps whoever or whatever is there will have help in the ocean.”

Obi-Wan swallowed, grateful that Qui-Gon understood the quandary. He also hadn’t thought that if there was someone or something on the island, it might have corrupted any nearby Nandian villages who would come to aid the island’s evil inhabitant.

“You are a fine warrior, Qui-Gon of the clan Jinn,” Obi-Wan told him sincerely. “Wise. Strong. And I much admire you.” He ignored Qui-Gon’s surprised blink and kissed his amazing Nandian before swimming for the island. Each stroke sent his inner mind gibbering and his muscles tensing for whatever, if anything, that was coming.

Once he could stand, Obi-Wan sloshed to shore, extending his Force perception for any hint of life. There was darkness, which went without saying, but the lifeforms on the island seemed…warped. Obi-Wan could tell they were the same as the other island, small rodent-like beasts and a variety of birds. But these island inhabitants were vicious, predatory to each other, their instinct for survival corroded into some mockery of nature’s circle of life.

Obi-Wan had faced the Dark Side before. His knighthood came in the aftermath of his killing of a Sith Lord. The Sith had been long since thought extinct, killed in the great wars before the Galactic Republic was fully formed. There were always those who fell to the Dark Side, Jedi or just Force sensitives, and there were rumors of an entire planet of Dark Side users.

Obi-Wan was no stranger to the Dark Side on a personal level either. When he’d lost his beloved Satine during the war, his fellow Councilmembers fought against his despair, rage and feeling of impotency. He sought revenge on those who had stolen her life. Only a good friend’s former apprentice, Anakin Skywalker, had stopped Obi-Wan from completely turning to the Dark.

He stepped around dead sea creatures, some crustacean-looking, and he casually strolled to the nearest building, projecting a façade of confidence to any who might be watching. It was ramshackle, the roof caved in. Unlike the others on the beach, it looked made of local materials to the island, wood for the walls and leaves and rushes for the ceiling. He peered inside through the crude opening and found nothing but birds’ nests and droppings.

Very well. To the next building.

Each step he took, Obi-Wan felt ill. Gods, the Darkness was strong here. How had this happened? How had this slipped by the Jedi? Was it because no Jedi bothered to visit Nandia due to its peoples’ inability to interact much with the off-worlders?

The next building was made of duracrete with transparisteel windows. Though battered on the outside, it held up well, roof and walls showing no signs of ruin. Obi-Wan took a deep breath, pushed open the door, and looked within.

The communications array was old, damned near ancient. A generator that used water for fuel sat in a corner for the power source. It would take a day or two to get enough energy gathered with it to power the comms, but it was doable. Presumably, an extra day or two wouldn’t hurt.

There was nothing else in the one-room building, no tables, chairs, bunks, nothing. In fact, the building was barely big enough for two people plus the comms and generator. Obi-Wan peered over his shoulder at the two buildings further down the beach. Were those residential shelters of some sort?

The goal of the whole trip reached, but his sense of foreboding building, Obi-Wan headed to the other buildings. His thoughts were confirmed at finding small, single person cots and very old-fashioned stoves in each of the two remaining buildings. Snuggling with Qui-Gon on one of those cots was going to be purgatorial.

He went a few steps into the trees and brush inland and grew queasy with each step he took. Obi-Wan retreated. Now wasn’t the time. He needed to update Qui-Gon on what he’d found and they needed to make a plan.

Obi-Wan trudged back into the water and swam out to where Qui-Gon anxiously waited.

“Well?” The Nandian demanded as Obi-Wan came to a stop in front of him.

“The communications array is old but looks to have to be well-protected. There is a device to help power it, but it needs time to build up energy to do so. One or two days, I’d imagine,” Obi-Wan reported, lacing he and Qui-Gon’s hands together, drawing positive energy from Qui-Gon, who gave willingly.

“And this darkness?” Qui-Gon queried.

“I don’t know.” Obi-Wan looked over his shoulder at the island. “I don’t think it’s a being doing it. I went a little into the trees and it got stronger. I’ll need to explore when I’m better rested. The animals and birds…” Here he trailed off, unsure how to explain their abnormal behavior.

“The fish here are not right,” Qui-Gon told him. “They seem agitated. Several have already tried to attack me, but they were small and did no damage. They are unusually aggressive.” Qui-Gon frowned. Obi-Wan could see that he too was having trouble voicing what he was feeling. “The predators are small but could cause me harm if they attack in groups. However, I have heard that in reefs such as this, bigger predators live as well. If I sleep and one attacks, I could be dead before I know it.”

Obi-Wan’s stomach clenched so tightly he thought he was going to throw up. What _was_ this place? “Okay, so we both go on the beach,” Obi-Wan decided. “I don’t sense anything that could harm us physically and I can show you methods to help counteract the darkness and its distortions of your mind.”

Qui-Gon’s eyes lit up at the idea of Obi-Wan teaching him but Obi-Wan felt obliged to give a warning. “The Dark Side is insidious, Qui-Gon, it can find your weaknesses, your negative emotions, make them feel natural and more freeing. It lies, it distorts, it snakes its way into your soul. I have a lifetime of learning to use the Force, to find the Light within. Though you are strong, you are untrained, knowing only what you have learned through experience, experiment, and instinct. You are more vulnerable, but we are both going to have to fight it.”

Qui-Gon’s eagerness faded but he gave a resolute nod. “I understand. If I feel this Darkness begin to make me not-Qui-Gon I will tell you.”

It was not much but it was reassurance. Obi-Wan cupped Qui-Gon’s bearded cheek and stroked affectionately. “We can only do what we can. As one of the wisest Jedi always says, ‘Do or do not. There is no try.’ Come. The buildings will give us protection. Night is coming. We need to get settled before it gets here.”

They swam to shore and Obi-Wan winced as Qui-Gon’s lower half contorted back into legs. It seemed less painful for Qui-Gon and was over in less than a minute. Obi-Wan gave Qui-Gon a hand up, bracing the shaking Nandian until Qui-Gon could get his balance and muscle memory back on how to maneuver with legs.

Once Qui-Gon was set, the two walked to the communication building. Obi-Wan watched with a small smile as Qui-Gon examined the machinery with great curiosity and many questions. Obi-Wan tried to answer them all to Qui-Gon’s satisfaction. That done, they went to the first residential hut.

Qui-Gon touched the duracrete walls and tapped a finger on the transparisteel windows, an odd expression on his face that Obi-Wan couldn’t read. The Nandian turned to him and said, “This is better than carved volcanic rock and dead coral.”

“What do you mean?”

Qui-Gon hesitated, gathering his thoughts. “Most of The People, the different clans, live far apart for the sake of not draining resources. There is a yearly gathering of nearby clans for purposes of alliance, trade, and exchange of news. There are some, though, who live outside the clans, refuse the clans’ guidance, unity, and restrictions. They raid our villages for supplies and just to create discord. Our buildings are easily damaged and repaired with rock and coral. But this,” and Qui-Gon rested a hand on the duracrete wall, “would not be damaged so effortlessly. It would offer great protection to our vulnerable and young during raids.”

Obi-Wan considered. All Qui-Gon said was true. Duracrete would be hard to pour so deep in the ocean. How it would handle an environment of salt water as it set Obi-Wan had no idea. Transparisteel could very easily be setup underwater, as it was manufactured in factories and shipped to buyers in sheets that could then be cut down to whatever dimensions were needed.

Obi-Wan then turned his attention to these raiders. All societies had those that refused to follow the rules, sought to take advantage for their own selfish gain, not doing the work to earn the rewards that honest labor gave back. Obi-Wan wasn’t surprised the Nandians had their own like this. However, could he speak on behalf of the Nandians for advanced building materials to help the law-abiding clans to protect their citizens from those that made themselves outlaw? He had done similar on many worlds that were not as technologically advanced. He knew so little of the Nandians’ treaty with the Republic that Obi-Wan wasn’t sure.

“I don’t know, Qui-Gon,” he said honestly. “I can speak on behalf of your people, if your elders give me leave to do so, before the Senate to ask. The worst that can happen is an answer of ‘no’.”

Qui-Gon gave a thoughtful nod and stepped inside the little hut. Obi-Wan followed. His eyes tracked the nude man, his body strong and muscular, his wet hair a tangle down his back, as Qui-Gon explored the small space. The merman sat on the bed then gingerly lay down, stretching out. There were no coverings, just a cot with a worn mattress on it. Qui-Gon wiggled a bit to get comfortable, causing Obi-Wan’s gaze to slide down the long body all the way to Qui-Gon’s feet, which were hanging over the end.

Dragging, with some effort, his gaze from Qui-Gon’s body, Obi-Wan removed his rucksack, dropped it to the ground, and began to strip off his clothes. Days of being immersed in salt water made the already rough-hewn fabric unbearable. Obi-Wan didn’t want to be in it any more than he had to be.

Conscious of Qui-Gon’s devoted gaze, Obi-Wan finally shucked off his rolled-up leggings, his cheeks a bit heated. He’d always been more modest than his fellow Jedi, something that had gotten him a lot of grief as an initiate and later a padawan. Jedi, as a rule, weren’t ashamed of their bodies, living the philosophy of ‘you are what the Force made you’, but Obi-Wan had always been self-conscious of his flaws, physical, mental, emotional, real or imagined. It caused no end of trouble for him, but had saved him numerous times as well. Many eventually chalked it up to him just being ‘Obi-Wan’ and let it go.

Obi-Wan never thought himself overly pleasing to look at, though he knew he wasn’t hideous to gaze upon. He kept his body in prime condition, as he should, and worked hard at it. That he now had an insecurity that Qui-Gon saw him as perhaps interesting as an exotic new toy, and not seeing Obi-Wan as himself, swamped Obi-Wan’s thoughts for a moment.

Qui-Gon’s strong arms went around his chest and he felt the tangle of beard in his hair. “I have never seen anything as beautiful as you,” Qui-Gon rumbled, chest vibrating with his speech.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest and then clacked it closed immediately. He reveled instead within the affection that Qui-Gon was sending to him, and sent his own affection back. They stood there, Qui-Gon wrapping Obi-Wan in his arms, for a long time. The door to their hut, still ajar, allowed them to see that the sun was starting to set. They had things to do, before they gave in to sleep.

Obi-Wan reluctantly pulled away and turned around to face Qui-Gon. In the dim light, Qui-Gon looked calm, accepting, waiting for Obi-Wan to decide what they were going to do next. “I need to teach you to meditate first,” Obi-Wan said with a bit of a croak in his words.

Qui-Gon arched an inquiring eyebrow but nodded gamely.

“I’ll show you my favorite meditation position, but sit however you’re comfortable. Sometimes you can be in a deep trance for hours at a time.” Obi-Wan knelt, settling himself back on his lower legs and feet. Qui-Gon mimicked him but grimaced. He shuffled around ungainly, trying to find a sitting position that was comfortable and natural feeling. Eventually the Nandian settled on just plopping down on his butt and drawing his knees to his chest. ‘Whatever works,’ Obi-Wan shrugged to himself.

“All right. I know you can do this. Find your center, your inner focus. Breath into it, allow it to envelop you, feel the Force flowing within you and around you,” Obi-Wan said. Qui-Gon’s eyes fluttered closed and he was deep in the Force with very little problem. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but be amazed at Qui-Gon’s untaught control. “Find the Light within you. Allow it to burn bright in your mind, in your soul. Whatever form it takes, nurture it, allow it to grow brighter. This will keep the darkness around you at bay. It is the goodness within you, all that is right about you. The good, and bad, that makes you the great warrior, compassionate helper, clever thinker, and loving person that you know, and I know, you to be. Cast away your doubts, your fears, your negative energies. Just let the Light fill you.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes drifted closed as he spoke, following his own instructions as well as guiding Qui-Gon. He gently reached out to Qui-Gon in the Force to get an idea of how the Nandian was doing and was startled when Qui-Gon reached back. They floated together in the Force, holding each other there as they earlier held each other physically. At first Obi-Wan didn’t understand what was happening. It felt so right, so perfect. The Force hummed with powerful, positive energy between them. It was relaxing.

There was something, though, that niggled Obi-Wan’s consciousness and he cast about for what it was. When he found it, his eyes popped open in pure astonishment and not a little trepidatious joy.

A bond.

Weak, true, but a bond. The beginnings of a strong one, from the look and feel of it. Little threads stretching between he and Qui-Gon in the Force. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, found his center once more and rejoined Qui-Gon, who had not noticed Obi-Wan’s absence, basking in the Light as if he would a sunbeam. Obi-Wan touched the strands, giving them a pluck. He sensed Qui-Gon do the same, obviously not understanding the import of the phenomenon.

Obi-Wan drew on all his knowledge of bonds and set about strengthening he and Qui-Gon’s. He shouldn’t. He would presumably be leaving Nandia in hopefully a few days. The odds of seeing Qui-Gon again were astronomically not in Obi-Wan’s favor, but he found he didn’t care. He gave in to a moment of human selfishness and strengthened the bond, showing Qui-Gon how to anchor his end of the strands between them and making them thicker, sturdier.

 _Qui-Gon?_ He called in his mind.

 _I hear you in my head,_ came Qui-Gon’s wondering reply.

 _We have formed a bond in the Force,_ Obi-Wan explained. _It is a rare and precious gift._

He felt the amazement and excitement from Qui-Gon as the other explored the bond, tweaking it here and there instinctively to make it grow and become sturdier still.

 _I did not know this could happen,_ marveled Qui-Gon a few moments later. _Did you?_

 _I have heard of them, seen those that have them, yes,_ Obi-Wan told him honestly. _I have never had strong bonds, not even my training bond with my master. I am a member of the Jedi Council. We have a special bond between us that allows us to commune privately if needed. Even that is hard for me to tap into and utilize. This, my Qui-Gon, is something powerful, unexpected, and possibly problematic._

_I cannot see how something so joyous could be bad._

_I have to leave soon, Qui-Gon. I will likely never come back._

There was a silence that stretched so long, the bond beginning to twist and knot, that Obi-Wan grew alarmed.

_Qui-Gon?_

_You will not take me with you?_ The question was heartbroken, almost child-like.

The thought had never even occurred to Obi-Wan. Not once. Obviously, though, it had occurred to Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan turned the idea over in his mind. There were a lot of pitfalls in such a happenstance. They didn’t know the extent of Qui-Gon’s land-based physiology. This strange spell on Qui-Gon allowed for communication between them but would that continue once off-world? Or what if it were just between Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon alone, no one else to understand them when they spoke to each other? How would Qui-Gon live? Obi-Wan couldn’t drag him all over the galaxy when the Jedi sent Obi-Wan on missions. He highly doubted Qui-Gon would be content to be left behind at the Temple either. There were so many negatives.

And one positive. The bond. If they parted, what would it do to them? Obi-Wan had heard of bond mates separated too long and dying. Bond sickness, the healers called it. That was why bonds like this were generally forbidden to the Jedi now. It made them less effective and the bond could be extremely detrimental in tough circumstances. Yet Obi-Wan couldn’t imagine being separated from Qui-Gon now. The link between them was so natural, so invigorating, so empowering. Never had Obi-Wan felt such acceptance and contentment.

 _I don’t know, Qui-Gon,_ Obi-Wan answered honestly. _It will require deep discussion, something we don’t have time for right now. We must weigh the decision carefully, we cannot act rashly._

There was a hint of sorrow and worry but also understanding. _Yes, of course, you are right_.

 _Can you hold onto the Light within you once we leave our meditation?_ Obi-Wans asked his bondmate.

The answer was full of confidence. _Yes._

_Then let’s do it. We need to eat and sleep._

Together, as a unit, they opened their eyes, staring at each other with wonder.

“That shelf is very uncomfortable,” Qui-Gon said, waving a hand at the cot.

Obi-Wan eyed it dubiously as well. He should protest that they sleep on it, but decided Qui-Gon was right. He lay down, stretched out his naked body in a luxurious, relaxing stretch, and then raised his arms in invitation for Qui-Gon to join him.

Qui-Gon gave him a small, almost shy smile, and did so.

The Light pulsed around them as they fell into a deep, restful sleep, keeping the darkness all around them far away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Proud people breed sorrows for themselves." This is a quote from Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights.
> 
> The apology/rock scene is my interpretation of Orientalld's art piece as found on Patreon and Tumblr. It's what started this WHOLE thing! So beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, sad, inspiring, hopeful...GUH! I thank Orientalld SO MUCH for allowing me to use this art in the story. SQUEEEEE!!!!


	9. Chapter 9

They had never closed the swinging wall, Qui-Gon realized, as a shaft of sunlight settled on his face, waking him up. He blinked his eyes open sleepily, saw that Obi-Wan still slept peacefully, and snuggled back down against his bondmate.

That word had slipped from Obi-Wan’s thoughts to him via the bond last night. If Qui-Gon understood its meaning, it meant that he and Obi-Wan were joined for all time. It presented an exhilarating joy within him but also a lot of fear and doubt. There was so much against them, this island and its darkness notwithstanding, but also off his home world, out among the stars where Obi-Wan came from. Qui-Gon had no place there, didn’t know how he _could_ make a place for himself there. He got the impression that Obi-Wan traveled a lot, going to his home only when he needed rest, to report to his leaders, or heal an injury. Qui-Gon’s understandable ignorance of other off-worlders meant he could hamper Obi-Wan’s life. He didn’t want Obi-Wan to eventually resent Qui-Gon and their bond if that happened. However, Qui-Gon didn’t know what else to do.

He turned things around in his mind, his imagination creating all sorts of fantastical things, until Obi-Wan stirred awake in his arms. Pulled from his intense thoughts, Qui-Gon pecked a kiss on Obi-Wan’s bearded cheek in a good morning greeting.

“Sleep well?” he asked.

Obi-Wan’s changeling eyes fluttered open and he rubbed them with one hand sleepily. “Very much so,” Qui-Gon’s off-worlder confessed. Obi-Wan turned in Qui-Gon’s arms until their bodies were flush. Both were aroused. Obi-Wan’s lips turned up in a wicked smile. “I see you are very much awake too,” he murmured huskily, leaning down to nip at Qui-Gon’s collar bone.

“Why do my reproductive organs do this in the morning?” Qui-Gon asked, reveling in the sparks zapping through his nerves as Obi-Wan continued to torture him with his luscious mouth.

“It’s just a thing our bodies do,” Obi-Wans said dismissively, trailing his mouth down Qui-Gon’s chest and then latching onto a nipple.

Qui-Gon shuddered and arched into the touch. He drifted in the pleasure Obi-Wan lavished on him for several long minutes, Obi-Wan licking, nipping, sucking and kissing all over Qui-Gon’s chest. Then something occurred to him. Would Obi-Wan react the same way if Qui-Gon did this to him?

The need to experiment drove Qui-Gon to jerk a startled Obi-Wan up, slanting his mouth for a demanding kiss that left Obi-Wan panting and dazed. “My turn,” Qui-Gon rumbled at his off-world lover.

Obi-Wan tasted like the ocean, salty, but there was something else, an intoxicating flavor that Qui-Gon couldn’t get enough of. He peppered Obi-Wan’s face with kisses, nibbled his way down Obi-Wan’s throat, mimicking the things Obi-Wan did to him. Obviously, Obi-Wan had no objections, if the way he panted and begged Qui-Gon for more was any indication.

Heartened, emboldened, Qui-Gon explored Obi-Wan’s collar bone, down his chest to the already puckered coral-colored nipples. Qui-Gon hesitantly gave one a suck like a babe did its mother and Obi-Wan let out a long, low, throaty groan of pleasure. Grinning wickedly, Qui-Gon continued his assault on Obi-Wan’s body. He made his way to Obi-Wan’s belly, where a trail of hair led the way to Obi-Wan’s jutting reproductive organ.

Qui-Gon stopped to think. He flicked a gaze up at Obi-Wan’s face and found Obi-Wan smiling dazedly back. Remembering what Obi-Wan tried to do by that little ocean on the other island, Qui-Gon hesitantly closed his mouth around the tip of Obi-Wan’s member.

The moisture that accumulated there tasted…unusual. Salty, slightly bitter but not wholly unpleasant. He gave a suck, felt Obi-Wan shudder beneath his hands and did it again.

“L-Lick it,” Obi-Wan managed to instruct. “Just don’t use – use your teeth.”

Qui-Gon removed his mouth from the tip and began to play, experiment. With Obi-Wan’s wordless encouragement, Qui-Gon gave his off-worlder great pleasure. The small round skin balls hanging below the jutting limb confused Qui-Gon. He didn’t understand their purpose, but when he nudged one with his nose, Obi-Wan gave a near growl.

Alarmed at the noise, Qui-Gon jerked back, thinking he’d hurt Obi-Wan.

“You can suck on them too,” Obi-Wan told him, eyes closed, head thrown back.

Qui-Gon sucked one in his mouth and he rolled it around with his tongue. Obi-Wan’s whole body quivered helplessly. Qui-Gon continued his assault on the sack and reached up and closed his fist around Obi-Wan’s organ. Remembering that Obi-Wan had slicked up his hand with the excretion, Qui-Gon did the same and it made stroking the hard length easier.

Obi-Wan gasped and arched, begging, pleading, much as Qui-Gon remembered doing when Obi-Wan did this to them. Then Obi-Wan shuddered, gave a shout of Qui-Gon’s name. Qui-Gon let go of the little sack and watched with curious concern as something ejaculated from Obi-Wan’s member, splattering his lover’s belly and lower chest. It was white. Some wild fancy prompted Qui-Gon to dip in his finger in it and taste it. The same taste as when Qui-Gon sucked Obi-Wan’s member earlier.

His fist was still around Obi-Wan’s reproductive organ, but Obi-Wan fumbled his hands down and levered Qui-Gon’s fingers to release. The member was no longer erect and hard. Well, _Obi-Wan’s_ was no longer erect and hard. Qui-Gon’s, on the other hand, was nearly painful.

Obi-Wan gave him a drowsy smile, Qui-Gon still peering up at him from between Obi-Wan’s legs.

“Your turn,” Obi-Wan said huskily.

Qui-Gon sat up obligingly, shifting a bit in discomfort. Obi-Wan pushed him back, straightening out his legs and straddling his lower regions. “Normally, I would take you inside, but it’s been awhile for me, I’m not loosened up and we have no lubricant. We’ll just have to improvise,” Obi-Wan told him, reaching between them and settling Qui-Gon’s member in the crease of Obi-Wan’s lower back.

Qui-Gon swallowed hard. He didn’t understand what Obi-Wan was talking about but was willing to go along with whatever Obi-Wan was preparing to do. It was awkward for Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon could see, but for the merman, it was glorious.

The friction built with the rubbing of Obi-Wan’s skin against Qui-Gon’s member. Obi-Wan toyed teasingly with Qui-Gon’s nipples to add to the building tension within him. Blindly wanting more, not knowing how to get it, but acting on instinct, Qui-Gon grabbed Obi-Wan’s thighs with his large hands, gripping tightly and arching himself into the rubbing movements. Sometimes he could feel Obi-Wan fumbling between them, resettling their joining, but that just heightened the tension, the erotic sensations.

Qui-Gon could only see this bright light, shining in his eyes. It blinded him, the power within him, building and building. He heard himself crying out, begging like he had the last time. Obi-Wan settled down further and Qui-Gon pumped his hips harder. Obi-Wan reached behind and palmed the two sacks below Qui-Gon’s member and Qui-Gon’s world shattered.

His body jerked spasmodically, his hands clenched painfully, he gave a hoarse shout. His nerves were alive in an almost painful manner. It was hard to breathe. The ocean roared in his ears. Obi-Wan’s hands were still on his chest until Qui-Gon stopped twitching.

Once it looked to Obi-Wan like Qui-Gon was calming down, he stretched out beside Qui-Gon, brushing the Nandian’s hair away from his face. “As amazing as this was,” Obi-Wan whispered in Qui-Gon’s ear with a mischievous tone in his voice, “there’s a lot more that’s even more overpowering.”

Qui-Gon didn’t know if that was a promise or a threat. He frankly didn’t care, as long as it was Obi-Wan doing it to him.

* * *

After their morning orgasms and a quick recovery nap, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon got to work. They searched everywhere but there was nothing but Obi-Wan’s tiny canteen to carry water from the ocean to the generator. After debating heavily with himself, Obi-Wan opted to first explore the island for supplies before giving up his only water reserves. He really didn’t want to explore this island whatsoever, though. It made him ill, body and soul. He and Qui-Gon’s meditation last night and mind-blowing lovemaking this morning apparently pushed the darkness away from the shore somewhat. It was interesting but not of vital information at the moment.

After a vigorous debate that Qui-Gon should remain on the beach, that Qui-Gon won through sheer stubbornness, they set out inland. There was more dead debris everywhere than on the previous island. The trees looked forbidding, no berries or flowers grew in abundance…or at all. There were nuts on the ground and Obi-Wan tried one, spitting it out immediately. It was foul, rotten, though on the outside it looked perfectly fine. The hope of finding food supplies dwindled the further they went.

Obi-Wan kept his eyes peeled for fresh water but the more they walked, the less likely it seemed. It was curious, Obi-Wan thought as he paused his step. These animals and birds needed to drink so where was the water?

Qui-Gon walked with Obi-Wan, quiet and alert. He was taking cue from Obi-Wan, which was smart. Obi-Wan turned to his lover and said, “We haven’t found fresh water.”

Qui-Gon’s deep brow furrowed. “Can we use the Force to find it?” he asked hesitantly. Obi-Wan understood why. Qui-Gon’s misunderstanding of what the Force could do had led to their spat. He didn’t want to start another one.

“Maybe,” Obi-Wan drawled out thoughtfully. “I’ve never used it as a diviner like that. Can’t hurt to try,” he shrugged.

Qui-Gon blinked at him in the way that told Obi-Wan that he’d used terms Qui-Gon had no basis of reference for. Dismissing it as unimportant for the moment, Obi-Wan stretched out his Force sense, tapping into his weak link with the Living Force and evaluating his surroundings. Lots of animals, some fearful, some aggressive. Birds with the same emotions. The stench of death and darkness everywhere but it was stronger to his left, like all of the darkness emanated from that direction. Interesting.

He focused on water and after a moment began to walk, following a trail of fresh water shimmering in the Force. He knew Qui-Gon was gamely following along, protecting Obi-Wan while he was seemingly vulnerable. They didn’t walk far but Qui-Gon grabbing his arm and pulling him back caused Obi-Wan to open his eyes.

He’d almost walked off a cliff.

He looked down into a small lake, easily ten times the size of the little pool of water on the other island. Vegetation grew all around the lake, tree limbs reaching out over the water in areas. They weren’t terribly high up and Obi-Wan could see animals in the trees, simian-looking. He wondered how big this island was.

“How do we get down there?” asked Qui-Gon pensively.

“I’d say jump down but we don’t know how deep it is. We could flatten ourselves in a shallow pool,” Obi-Wan mused, eyes scanning the area. He almost missed it, but there was small pathway created by animals that led down.

They moved, brushing limbs of bushes and trees out of the way. Obi-Wan grew uneasy. This path was too big to have been made by the small rodent-like creatures they’d seen previous. Something bigger, repeatedly treading downward, created this path. He sent a tendril of warning to Qui-Gon through their bond and said _Something big made this. We need to be wary._

_I agree._

Relieved that Qui-Gon understood the implications, Obi-Wan pushed on.

His nerves stretched to breaking, Obi-Wan removed his lightsaber from his belt, but didn’t ignite it. They reached the bottom and paused, looking around, stretching out their senses, all of them. It was hard to distinguish things with the darkness of the island assaulting them constantly.

Obi-Wan knelt at the water’s edge, cupped his left hand, dipped it into the lake and brought the water up to his mouth. He expected it to be brackish, poisonous, but it wasn’t. A bit gritty from sediment, but it seemed okay. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. They had water, assuming Qui-Gon needed it too.

“Is it safe?”

Obi-Wan stood up. “Not fantastic-tasting, but yes, I think it’s safe.”

“Not very convenient,” Qui-Gon noted, looking pointedly around.

“Are you sure you don’t have a bucket in that pouch of yours?” Obi-Wan joked. Earlier he’d had to explain what a bucket was to a confused Qui-Gon.

“No, my love,” Qui-Gon returned with a wry grin.

A thought occurred to Obi-Wan and, lightsaber still in hand, he began walking among the trees around them. Too thick, too skinny, didn’t look like it would be carveable, full of insects. It took a bit of searching but he found what he was looking for.

He glanced at Qui-Gon who followed him with dutiful curiosity. “Stand back,” he warned and Qui-Gon did so.

Obi-Wan lit his blue blade, the energy humming down his arm and in the air. He swung it at the tree he’d chosen, felling it neatly and with ease. Another chop and he had a small chunk of wood. He picked it up and set it upright on some flat ground.

“I hope this works,” he commented idly to his companion and, before Qui-Gon could question him, Obi-Wan lowered his blade’s energy output and plunged it in the wood log. He drew the blade around in a shallow circle to create walls and then began to thinly slice the inner core, with the hope that he could wiggle and tear them out without damaging the bottom too much.

Once the carving was done, Obi-Wan shut off the blade, and rehooked the saber to his belt. He looked up at Qui-Gon, who looked very perplexed.

“I don’t understand,” Qui-Gon confessed.

“If I succeed, you’ll see,” Obi-Wan told him. “Keep watch.” He set to trying to pull the slivers of wood out of the proto-bucket.

It was hard-going. Twice he had to stop and help Qui-Gon frighten off potential animal attackers, both on land and in the trees. His fingers cramped and he had splinters everywhere, but he gritted his teeth and kept going. How long it took, Obi-Wan had no idea, but the last sliver of the inner core tore free with a triumphant cry from the Jedi.

“Tada!” he crowed, waving a mangled hand at his creation.

Qui-Gon peered at it, picked it up and looked it all over. “I still don’t understand,” he confessed again.

Obi-Wan staggered to his feet, stomping out the kinks of cramped muscles, took the crudely made bucket and headed back to the lake with a smug, “Follow me and I’ll show you.”

At the lake’s edge, Obi-Wan dipped the bucket into the water and drew it up. He waited a moment to see if the wood was too porous to hold water, but it seemed okay so he stood up. He held the bucket of water out to Qui-Gon silently for inspection.

Qui-Gon looked inside and comprehension dawned on his face. “You made your bucket thing,” he said approvingly.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said airily. “My canteen is still mostly full for now, so I should be okay.” He poured the water back into the lake with a splash and cascade of ripples. “We can use this,” he hefted up the bucket again, “to haul water from the ocean to the generator.”

Qui-Gon gave Obi-Wan an admiring look. “You constantly amaze me, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan gave a laugh. “Sometimes I amaze myself, Qui-Gon. Come on.”

They headed back to the beach.

It took several trips to fill the generator’s tank and another few minutes to clean the connectors on all the equipment of any sand and crud that accumulated over the years. Obi-Wan had never seen a model of communications array this old so it took him a bit to figure out how it would work once there was power to it. The generator was, of course, equally aged, but generators changed very little so that was not an issue.

When Obi-Wan flipped the switch that would start the generator building power, Qui-Gon jumped at the screech and then loud humming noise from it. Obi-Wan glanced at him. “You okay?” he asked with concern.

“It startled me, that’s all,” Qui-Gon said with a frown. “Is it very old?”

“Very, very old. Predates both of us by many, many years,” Obi-Wan said with some resignation. “I think I can figure it out though.”

There was a thread of hope and fear in Qui-Gon’s next question. “And if it doesn’t?”

The thought had occurred to Obi-Wan but he hadn’t dwelled on it. “We’ll figure it out if that happens. No point worrying about it now.” He stood up, brushed his hands on his filthy leggings, and turned to Qui-Gon.

“Time to eat, don’t you think?” he asked lightly.

Qui-Gon only nodded but led the way out of the hut.

They sat on the shore, Obi-Wan having caught some fish that had been aggressively foolish enough to get in range of lightning fast Jedi reflexes. Qui-Gon ate his raw, as usual, which brought the question to Obi-Wan’s mind of whether or not Qui-Gon’s stomach physiology was human now too. Obi-Wan managed to start a small fire and roasted his.

They ate in companionable silence, pointedly ignoring and brushing aside the tendrils of Dark that snaked its way to them. It was a struggle for Qui-Gon, having very little experience in the exercise. Obi-Wan boosted Qui-Gon when he needed it and gave him tips and tricks on how to enhance the Light within the Nandian. Overall, though, they both seemed to be coping well in such a negative environment.

Qui-Gon peppered Obi-Wan with questions: what was it like growing up a Jedi, what did he have to learn to survive in the stars, what did other people look like, how did people learn about the Force and discover how to make it work for them, what were Jedi and their philosophies? Obi-Wan answered them all, telling tales on himself and his friends, escapades he’d gotten into, classes he’d aced or struggled with, his master, Dooku, who was a stoic man given to great introspection but had given Obi-Wan great guidance though little affection. Obi-Wan gave Qui-Gon the basics of the Jedi and their purpose. He expounded greatly on the old wars with the Sith and the great cost it brought both sides and those stuck in between. He talked of the history of the Galactic Republic and confessed his dissatisfaction with the rampant corruption and greed within its ruling class. He stopped talking when his throat started to hurt. He sipped a tiny bit of water to soothe it.

Qui-Gon absorbed everything, his questions insightful despite their seeming innocence. There were many concepts outside Qui-Gon’s experience and understanding that left the Nandian at a disadvantage. It surfaced another doubt to Obi-Wan’s mind regarding potentially taking Qui-Gon off Nandia: Qui-Gon might trust the wrong person, with bad consequences following.

He pushed all that aside for now. One step, one moment at a time, Obi-Wan berated himself. Live in the moment. The past is done and the future will bring what it will. Dwelling on it, worrying about it, distracted him from what was happening now. Considering their environment, distraction could be fatal for them both.

They settled into a companionable silence, side by side, skin brushing skin. Obi-Wan took his shirt off but left the leggings on for their hike through the inner island. Qui-Gon was still naked. Obi-Wan wished like hell he had something, anything, he could form into some sort of protection for Qui-Gon. While it didn’t seem to concern Qui-Gon overly much, it bothered the hell out of Obi-Wan.

“Why does my body embarrass you?” Qui-Gon’s question so mirrored Obi-Wan’s thoughts, the Jedi jerked his head around to Qui-Gon, who was staring into the glowing coals of the fire.

“It doesn’t embarrass me exactly,” Obi-Wan hedged but he subsided that train of thought at Qui-Gon’s patently disbelieving look. “Okay, yes, it embarrasses me. I’ve always been modest about my person. Many worlds have taboos about the exposure of the body, or certain parts of the body. It depends on societal development, religious beliefs, environments, lots of things. And some people don’t like showing off their body. It just makes them uncomfortable. I’m one of them.” He gave a shrug as he finished.

Qui-Gon pondered that. “The things on your body, what are they called?”

Obi-Wan blinked and looked down at his worse for wear leggings. “You mean clothes?” He plucked at the pants in inquiry.

Qui-Gon nodded. “Yes. Clothes. We have no such things.”

Obi-Wan frowned. “Do you wear decoration of any kind? Jewelry? Things to denote your status in your clan?”

Qui-Gon shook his head. “No, not really. The raiders wear trophies around their necks, arms and waists. Teeth, rotting heads, and other foul things. But as a rule, no, we wear nothing like that. All are equal and different in their looks. All are beautiful and acceptable. Perhaps one is more pleasing to you than another but that does not mean that none are not beautiful.”

A society entirely convinced that all are equal and accepted despite differences was a utopia to Obi-Wan’s thinking. A bit too good to be true, in fact. There had to be a dark side to this. He remembered that Qui-Gon said he’d been an outcast, an outsider.

“You said once you were ‘other’ to your clan. Were you not accepted like everyone else then?” Obi-Wan asked hesitantly.

Qui-Gon gave a small, sad smile. “Not the way you mean. I had friends. My parents loved and accepted me until they died. I was a member of the community. People came to me when they needed help, which I was happy to provide, and I could go to them as well. I hunted for those who could not and if I was injured in a fight with raiders, I was taken care of in return. I was allowed to live in peace among my clan. The only part that made me other was the Force and my sense of it.”

“Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan ventured to ask, “if you leave with me, won’t you be missed? Won’t that leave a hole in your clan’s needs and safety?”

Qui-Gon gave a noncommittal shrug. “A small one perhaps, yes, but no more so than if I’d been killed in battle or lost a fight with a rampurge beyond the boundaries of our settlement.”

That was true for any culture, Obi-Wan supposed. Another thing occurred to him. “Did they expect you to come back?”

Qui-Gon pointedly didn’t look at him. “I don’t think so. I don’t think they thought we would be successful. It had to be done, however, per our agreement with the off-worlders who came before.”

And that, Obi-Wan thought, was that. He said no more on the subject. Instead he peppered Qui-Gon with questions, about his people, his settlement, the annual gatherings, the raiders, daily life, occupations, religion. The last confused Qui-Gon but after some awkward fumbling explanations from Obi-Wan he only said, “We only believe the ocean provides what we need when it can. There is no power greater than the sea.”

Imminently reasonable, Obi-Wan silently agreed.

They checked on the generator in the late afternoon and it was chugging away, the little indicator showing the power level was slowly inching toward full. Obi-Wan looked at the water tank used for fuel and decided to top it off before darkness fell and they went to sleep.

He was getting dangerously low on nutrient bars and made himself ration them to one third a bar instead of halves. Not ideal but there was plenty of fish so it would have to do. He’d caught more fish than they needed at lunch, so they ate the rest for evening meal. Qui-Gon showed signs of being queasy after his first bite of raw fish, so Obi-Wan coaxed him into eating some cooked.

Qui-Gon was dubious but tried it. After a couple of measured bites, it was no holds bar. Obi-Wan couldn’t cook the little suckers fast enough. Which answered a question regarding Qui-Gon’s physiology being like Obi-Wan’s out of the water. It was, it just took a bit for Qui-Gon’s body to reject the raw meat.

Darkness fell and they tumbled back into their hut, wrapping their arms around each other contentedly. Qui-Gon grew playful, which led to Obi-Wan being aroused, and they drifted off later in a post-coital haze.

Qui-Gon had pleasant dreams. Obi-Wan fought for their lives in his.


	10. Chapter 10

Qui-Gon woke alone. He felt a bit of panic but there was a reassuring wash of love from Obi-Wan through the bond, so Qui-Gon clambered to his feet and exited their little hut. He found Obi-Wan sitting on the beach, just beyond the surf, watching the sun climb into the sky. Qui-Gon sat next to him, discerning that Obi-Wan was disturbed and didn’t want to talk.

“I think I know why this island is Dark,” Obi-Wan said eventually. Qui-Gon said nothing, willing Obi-Wan to continue. “Yesterday I sensed the Darkness coming from one specific direction, filtering out like ripples from a single point. I think it’s a wellspring.”

“What is that?” Qui-Gon asked.

Obi-Wan took a breath and seemed to struggle for words. “It’s a place where the Force is strongest. We’re not entirely sure why, actually, but the wellsprings can be Dark or Light. Our home Temple on Coruscant is built on a very powerful wellspring. There is rumor of an entire planet that is a Dark wellspring, but normally they are small areas where the Force gathers and emanates from.”

“Do all worlds have them?”

“No. Some planets don’t have them at all. They are pretty rare, actually. I’ve only felt three in my travels, all of the Light. This is the first Dark one I’ve ever come across.”

“What does that mean?” Qui-Gon had a feeling he wasn’t going to like Obi-Wan’s answer.

“I had a dream last night,” Obi-Wan confessed. “I was fighting the Dark Side to save us both. Our future, our _lives_ depended on me winning.”

Qui-Gon dreaded the answer but he asked his question anyway. “Did you win?”

Obi-Wan was silent for so long Qui-Gon thought the answer was ‘no’ until the other spoke. “Yes but the cost was you.”

Qui-Gon swallowed, reached over and took Obi-Wan’s hand in his. Obi-Wan didn’t resist and his hand was cold as the deepest ocean. “You have to go to this wellspring, don’t you.” It wasn’t really a question, but a foregone conclusion.

Obi-Wan answered him. “I think that’s why I was brought here.” He took a deep breath, eyes never leaving the ocean stretching out before them. “Something pushed my ship into your planet’s gravity well. It was deliberate. Something, or someone, made all my systems fail and then made sure I crashed here. My ship was out of control when it entered the atmosphere, nose-diving. If it had landed in the water like that, it would have broken up into little bitty pieces, taking me with it. I would have been killed instantly. Instead, something cushioned the fall, helped me land safely.” Here he looked at Qui-Gon with a grave countenance. “What I don’t understand is how you fit into this?”

Qui-Gon’s skin pebbled. “I didn’t see your ship, until part of it settled in the water, getting my attention. It scared the fish around it. I surfaced and watched it for a while. Then it opened up and you jumped out and started to swim. I followed, realized you were in danger, and offered my help. You know the rest.”

Obi-Wan frowned, not angrily, but in concentration. “Is your village nearby that area? Is that why you were there?”

Qui-Gon looked away. “No,” he confessed. “It’s not nearby. I like to explore, to use what I now know is the Force to show me new things about the ocean. It just told me to be there and I was.”

“Someone, some _thing_ is manipulating us,” Obi-Wan concluded tersely.

“Perhaps,” ventured Qui-Gon, “you were brought here to take away this Darkness.”

The thought arrested Obi-Wan a moment, his face creasing into a scowl. “Not at the expense of your life,” he ground out.

“When you go to this wellspring, I will return to the ocean. It’s where I’m most comfortable and capable. You will tell me when you are successful through this bond we have made,” Qui-Gon strategized. It would do no good to argue with Obi-Wan not to go. His off-worlder was right. They were being manipulated and it might stop Obi-Wan from contacting help.

Obi-Wan was silent for a moment and then nodded, deflating. He leaned into Qui-Gon, who wrapped an arm around his shoulders and tipped his head against Obi-Wan’s. “Promise me you won’t come on land, no matter what until I tell you it’s safe. If I die…” Obi-Wan’s voice cracked and Qui-Gon’s heart lurched at the thought. “If I don’t succeed, go home, go back to your people. Tell them what we found and tell them to send no one else here.”

Qui-Gon wanted to howl and rage against the very notion of Obi-Wan failing, but he knew it could happen. People were defeated, there was always something stronger, and people fell to it. As amazing as the things Obi-Wan could do were, he was just a being with limitations. Qui-Gon understood that now.

“I promise,” Qui-Gon managed to choke out, ignoring the hurt in his heart at the very idea of losing his beautiful off-worlder

They sat huddled for a long while, listening to the turmoil of life on the island that was, in its essence, so palpably wrong. Finally, Obi-Wan roused, stood up, held out a hand and hauled Qui-Gon to his feet. “We need to eat and check the generator.” The rest remained unspoken and didn’t need to be said.

Obi-Wan refilled the water in the generator, only saying, “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.” They split one of Obi-Wan’s precious nutrient bars, which were tasteless and dry to Qui-Gon, and then huddled together, reluctant to part.

Eventually Obi-Wan began digging through his pack. He pulled out clothes and began to layer them on. He pulled thick covering things onto his feet, standing up and stomping for a reason Qui-Gon didn’t understand. Layer by layer, his off-worlder put on the clothes of his people, the Jedi, to face the Darkness they fought against. Qui-Gon wanted to argue not to wear them, that they would hamper Obi-Wan’s mobility, but reasoned it wasn’t his place. Obi-Wan knew what he was doing. Qui-Gon had to trust in that…and the Force.

Once dressed, Obi-Wan wrapped the belt around his waist, his lightning sword dangling from it. Then Obi-Wan hesitated. Qui-Gon was perplexed at the indecision in Obi-Wan, not understanding why until Obi-Wan reached into the bag and pulled out the Sith weapon Qui-Gon gave him. Now knowing that it had been used in the service of darkness, Qui-Gon expected it too to have darkness coming from it. Instead it was just like the weapon hanging from Obi-Wan’s belt, innocuous, harmless looking.

Obi-Wan stared at it consideringly for a long moment. He took off his weapon, hung the Sith one in its place, and held his own lightly in his hand. Qui-Gon understood that Obi-Wan was going with as many weapons as he could find, no matter their origin. He approved of the strategy.

Their gazes met, each haunted, wistful and uncertain. Obi-Wan pulled Qui-Gon in for a kiss, ravaging his mouth, let go, and walked away. Qui-Gon watched until Obi-Wan vanished into the trees. His off-worlder never looked back. That hurt but Qui-Gon understood why. Obi-Wan thought if he looked back, he would never go do what needed to be done.

Qui-Gon needed to do what he’d promised to do. So, he walked the ocean, waded in, feeling the clawing pain of transformation before he even hit a deep part, and dove before it ended.

Despite the Darkness of the life around him, he would be safe here until Obi-Wan returned to him.

His sense of foreboding did not decrease as the time went by. The fish around him were skittish, some fearful, others aggressive. The small predator fish similar to rampurges were poked away with his spear and a snarl. Obi-Wan was blocking him somehow so he didn’t know what was happening. Worry began to creep in, along with doubt.

He didn’t realize he had his own problems until the burn of a spear sliced his upper arm as it went by. Qui-Gon turned in alarm and faced four of the largest of The People he had ever seen. They did not look friendly. Spears were raised against Qui-Gon and a burst of the Darkness from the island shockwaved at him, pushing him back hard into a coral mound.

Apparently, Qui-Gon determined, Obi-Wan wasn’t the only one with a fight on his hands.

* * *

Obi-Wan moved on instinct, allowing the Light to fill him and guide his path. He walked unopposed by creature or landed obstacle, his footing sure, his pace even but ground-eating. The sooner he won this fight, the sooner he and Qui-Gon could plan their future. He refused to think of any other outcome.

The Light began to dim the closer he got to the wellspring. It was there, but it struggled. The Dark grew more powerful with each step closer Obi-Wan took. It didn’t matter, the Light was always with him. Nothing could take it away. He was a Jedi, raised in the traditions and teachings of the Light. The Dark could temporarily dim the light, but it could not make it go away entirely. The Light always burst through, even if it was just a small shaft of brilliance.

Obi-Wan stopped. He didn’t know how long he walked or how far inland he was. He looked around, confused. The Darkness was here, practically a pulse like a heartbeat, throbbing all around him, but not touching him. The Light wouldn’t allow it.

There was nothing here. No cave, no hole in the ground, no dying tree… nothing. It was a little clearing, but devoid of life. No vegetation, no trees, no animals or birds, no grass, just dirt. Dirt that was black as the soul of the Sith Lord he’d killed all those years ago.

He clenched his jaw, deciding to throw the memory out into the void around him like a gauntlet. The Dark wanted to play games? Fine, he’d play. But he’d take the first shot.

He gathered the memory, the fight, his desperation, the arrogance and taunting of the Sith, how Obi-Wan used it against the Sith, lulling him into a false sense of victory, trapping him, and eventually lopping his head off like it was the easiest thing in the world. He sent out his satisfaction on a job well done and his confidence that he could do it again. That the Dark was so easy to defeat. Just a small nuisance in the path of his life.

The Dark wellspring screamed at him, wind whipping up, plastering his rough, salt-encrusted clothes against his body, tangling his hair about his head. Images of dead Jedi bombarded his mind. Younglings lying in pieces in their creche rooms. The halls of the Temple littered with bodies of the fallen Jedi, scorch marks from blaster burns or cuts from a lightsaber evident. Darkness spreading from world to world and the people of the galaxy letting it, welcoming it, while those who served the Light were hunted and exterminated with great brutality. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, the Darkness taunted Obi-Wan, where the Dark could not follow. ‘Try your best, Jedi,’ it seemed to say, ‘but you will fail.’

He didn’t blink. He didn’t budge. He did nothing. His heart raged at what the wellspring showed him but he refused to believe it possible. He stood there, an unmovable object in the winds of fury.

Something moved to his right, a flicker in his periphery vision and Obi-Wan ducked and rolled. He would have gasped but it would have given the Dark satisfaction to know it startled him. The Sith he’d killed stood before him, whole and as vicious as before. Obi-Wan assumed it was an illusion, a trick in his mind, and went to ignore it. The Sith Lord swept his red blade at Obi-Wan in a taunting manner and Obi-Wan felt the heat of the blade’s energy.

Not an illusion. Very well then. He’d defeated this loser before. He would do it again. Obi-Wan ignited his blue blade, taking comfort in its familiar hum and energy, and engaged.

There was something different, but Obi-Wan at first couldn’t put his finger on what it was. As he agilely ducked a swing from his opponent, it hit him. His opponent didn’t have his double-bladed staff. He darted back in an attempt to put distance between them so he could look his opponent over more closely.

Single blade, different hilt. The tattoo pattern was also different, though the same black and red coloring. He was Zabrak, but his body was more compact, less agile than the other. Though he did some acrobatics, they were clumsier than Obi-Wan’s previous opponent. The Sith before him snarled, the teeth black and uneven, but some in the front were missing.

Obi-Wan tapped the Force and came up with a very certain conclusion: not only was this _not_ his previous opponent defeated those years ago, this one was less skilled and less experienced. He might still be a challenge, of course, but a lesser one.

Obi-Wan gave a grin that gave his fellow combatant pause.

Oh yeah. This was doable.

* * *

Qui-Gon’s spear arced through the water, causing the warrior coming at him to verge off course in an ungainly maneuver. Since he was still the closest opponent, Qui-Gon focused on him for a brief moment. As that warrior sought to regain an attack position, Qui-Gon sank his spear deep in the warrior’s midsection, twisting to cause more damage, and then jerked his spear end out. The jagged edge of the barbed point tore loose flesh. The warrior howled, dropping his own spear and clutching at his wound. Qui-Gon took a chance, darted in, grabbed the dropped spear, and drew up to face the other three.

“We are the Chosen,” rasped the one that Qui-Gon presumed to the be the leader. “You are tainted with the Light. You must be eradicated. The Dark will prevail. The Chosen will rule all as we deserve.”

“Even the night gives way to the sun,” Qui-Gon told them in a nonchalant manner. “It comes back time and again, but it too shines with the light of the three moons. The Light is everywhere. The Dark flees from it every day. You are chosen to fail.”

The leader snarled something in a language Qui-Gon didn’t understand but didn’t sound like Obi-Wan’s speech before Qui-Gon could understand him. It was guttural, harsh and grated on Qui-Gon’s nerves like lava rock. Two of the other warriors rushed him, one on each side in a flanking maneuver.

Qui-Gon readied to meet them, calculated what they would do, and trusting in the Force to guide him as Obi-Wan had shown him by example time and again, he struck first one and then the other. A twist and a jerk and they too floated, bleeding, screaming in pain.

Something occurred to Qui-Gon. “You’ve never fought in battle,” he realized. “You don’t understand how an opponent may move, how they will attack, or how to counter it. You are weak, helpless and cowardly.” He sneered at the three wounded warriors leaking blood into the water, which, Qui-Gon noted with some dismay, was bringing in interested, larger predators than he’d not seen here before. “You are no match for the Light. You can’t even protect yourselves from me, whom you claim to be of no consequence.”

The leader snarled again and launched himself at Qui-Gon. The other three didn’t know how to fight, true, but this one did. Qui-Gon miscalculated, he understood at the last minute, and with a powerful thrust of his tail, dodged the leader’s thrust. His opponent’s spear head caught on the tender fan of his tail, slicing into it, and trickling a little bit of blood into the water.

Qui-Gon had worse injuries in the past but felt a surge of rage all the same. Obi-Wan’s last murmured words to him burst into his mind: _Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering_. He let go of his anger and focused on his opponent calmly.

The leader of the Chosen was circling him at an almost dizzying pace. Qui-Gon tried to keep up but it disoriented him. Guessing that was the point, Qui-Gon surged up toward the surface, breaching it, flipping through the air like a playful bellak, and dove once more some distance away from where he had been. The leader, not knowing what Qui-Gon was doing, tried to follow, but belly-flopped. As he tried to right himself, Qui-Gon struck. He hit an arm but it was a gash. The other spear was dodged, but barely. Qui-Gon pulled back, watching, wary.

The leader glared hatefully at Qui-Gon but there was a grudging spark of respect in his black eyes. Equally black hair churned around his head with the force of the current and their tails. Neither moved, just watched and planned.

“Who are you?” Qui-Gon’s opponent demanded.

“Your executioner,” Qui-Gon told him. He closed his eyes and let the Force guide him. He’d often done this in battle. That mysterious energy that he now knew was the Force always guided his movements with surety of purpose and success. He hoped beyond all hope it would not fail him now. If he died here, Obi-Wan would never know.

_Yes, I will._

Obi-Wan’s peeved voice burst into his mind and Qui-Gon couldn’t help but grin at it.

The leader growled something, and another shockwave roiled through the water toward Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon dropped his spear, raised a hand and it dispersed into a gentle wave. He turned his hand and grabbed the spear that swung at his outstretched hand. He opened his eyes, saw the shock and fear in the other’s as Qui-Gon shoved his second spear deep in the other Nandian’s chest. He didn’t bother to pull it out. It was pushed all the way through. Getting it out would be nearly impossible.

The leader of the Chosen gasped, blood clouding around him. His arms jerked toward Qui-Gon but Qui-Gon met the leader of the Chosen’s eyes defiantly. The dim light in those eyes faded even as he struggled to protest, “We are the Chosen. The Darkness told us we are undefeatable.”

“You chose poorly,” Qui-Gon told him and flicked away from the dead Chosen. He gathered up the other spears. They weren’t collapsible like his own. Thankfully it was the first warrior’s spear Qui-Gon used to kill his final opponent.

The sea life was becoming frenzied by the blood in the water. The large predators Qui-Gon paid scant attention to earlier during the fight were already beginning to feast. He moved away as quickly as possible. There was no safe place to go, however. It was like the blood followed him, leaving a trail for predators to follow. He looked down and saw a wound he hadn’t known he’d taken. It gashed down the length of his scales, deep and, now that he noticed it, painful. There was nowhere he could go that the frenzied predators who were on the bottom of the pecking order wouldn’t follow, looking for easy prey. While Qui-Gon wasn’t easy at the moment, if he continued to bleed like this, he would grow weak and eventually be the prey they wanted.

He was torn with indecision. The only thing he could think of was to return to land. Perhaps it would heal the wound when his legs returned. He’d promised Obi-Wan to stay in the water, however. Of course, neither of them had known of these so-called unbalanced Chosen, but Qui-Gon still understood that the greater danger lay with Obi-Wan’s battle.

He couldn’t call out to Obi-Wan. It would be a distraction, perhaps a dangerous and fatal one. Even though Obi-Wan had waspishly rebuked Qui-Gon earlier, Qui-Gon didn’t dare respond in kind. He continued further down the reef but the blood still left a trail that hungry but wary predators were following. He was starting to feel weak. His head was light from blood loss and his arms felt like weights.

Qui-Gon had no choice. He had to return to land. He silently begged Obi-Wan to forgive and understand the decision as he sluggishly moved back toward shore. He flopped and gyrated, clawing with his hands, out of the water and as far away from the waves as possible.

The pain of transformation was so great, Qui-Gon began to scream.

* * *

Things were going from slightly bad to slightly worse. The Zabrak was joined by a Devoronian, his already devilish looks enhanced by the Dark Side twisting him. The Zabrak had taken a beating, though, cauterized wounds sliced all over his body. Obi-Wan regretted playing with his first opponent. He’d gotten cocky. Now he was going to pay for it.

Fool.

They flanked him quickly but Obi-Wan held them both at bay, defending now instead of in the offense like earlier. He caught an occasional flash of…something…in his bond with Qui-Gon but couldn’t tell what. Unbidden, the thought that Obi-Wan wouldn’t know if Qui-Gon died rolled through his mind and he peevishly returned a _Yes, I will_ back even as he ducked a swipe from the Devaronian.

Amusement trickled back, reassuring Obi-Wan that whatever Qui-Gon was dealing with was being handled. Good. Obi-Wan had his own hands full at the moment. Qui-Gon was a competent and clever warrior. He would be all right. Obi-Wan didn’t want to think if that wasn’t the case.

Block, feint, swipe, stab, and backflip over the Devoranian took both opponents by surprise. Not playing around any longer, Obi-Wan, as he came down, palmed the second lightsaber, flicked it on, and slid the beams together in an outward motion like an X. The Devaronian’s head was in the cross hairs, so to speak, and it bounced to the feet of the Zabrak.

The Zabrak stared at the head of his companion, completely disconcerted. When he looked up, terror was stark on his face and burned in his eyes. Obi-Wan tensed; this could be good, if the Sith ran, or bad, if the Sith attacked like a cornered wild animal.

Unfortunately for him, it was the latter. The Zabrak howled and pounced. Obi-Wan dodged but tripped on the Devaronian’s outstretched arm. The Zabrak raised his hand and his dead companion’s saber soared straight into it. The Zabrak lit the red blade, three of them glowing now in this dead zone. Obi-Wan’s blue blade was pathetically outnumbered by the savage red staining the light in this little clearing.

Obi-Wan quickly righted himself from his stumble and bounced on his toes as he waited for the Zabrak to make his move. Would this Zabrak be like his fallen brother, proficient with two weapons as opposed to one?

The Sith struck, doing an airborn somersault designed to bowl Obi-Wan over. It would have been a clever move if he hadn’t broadcasted it by the shifting and coiling of his body. Obi-Wan merely side stepped and brought both his saber blades down, cutting the Zabrak into four pieces.

Obi-Wan looked around calmly and said, “Is that all you’ve got?”

He fell to his knees by the next assault. Pain exploded through him, leaving him gasping for air, both hilts dropped, causing them to deactivate instantly. Obi-Wan tried to determine the source and intent of the pain that was making him wretch. He tapped the Light still burning within him. He wasn’t injured, singed perhaps, but not injured.

There was laughter, everywhere. In his mind, in his ears, through the trees beyond the dead zone. It made the animals screech and chatter and create a cacophony of noise. He tried to open his eyes, to see what was around him, his Force sense gone haywire, but the sun burned and he clamped them shut again reflexively.

_Even as you win, you lose._

Obi-Wan fell forward, his face crashing into the dirt. The Light burst through him, swamping everything, even the pain. He could feel tears on his face even as his muscles spasmed involuntarily. He didn’t understand what was happening. What did the words mean?

He wanted to sink into unconsciousness but something demanded he stay awake and aware.

And then it came, far away and desperate.

Qui-Gon was dying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a bastardized version of my favorite line from "Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade", which was 'He chose poorly.' The total deadpan sarcasm (no pun intended) of the Crusader knight when the Nazi idiot disintegrated after drinking from the wrong chalice makes me grin every time. The perfect example of 'Captain Obvious'. LOL! Plus, y'know, it killed a Nazi. No loss there.
> 
> Oh and yes, yes, a bit of a cliffhanger...heh heh. My theory on this island is that the Sith send their...not so hot recruits here hoping that being in the well-spring will, I don't know, make them more evil or something. They aren't Sith yet, of course, as there can be only two...but I mean, you've always got to have someone waiting in the wings, right? With Jedi taking out apprentices right, left and center? Kind of 'heir and the spare' mentality. (smirk) That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
> 
> Or...you can imagine them as Force projections that have infiltrated Obi-Wan's mind. I mean, either way...


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The finale! With headcanon on the future in the end notes!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A HUGE thank you to all readers who kudoed and commented. I am most appreciative and thrilled that you have enjoyed this story. Feel free to meander through my other fics at your leisure, I was stunned yesterday to see I posted 84 in various fandoms. There might be something to snag your attention. I do have various other fics in the works for Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, as well as my other OTP in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Steve and Bucky. Again, THANK YOU!

He’d had many injuries in his life. Some from accidents, some from battle, some from tangling with sea beasts like rampurges. He had been in pain strong enough to lose consciousness. He’d never been in pain so terrible it _forbade_ unconsciousness.

He couldn’t tell if the injuries he sustained were made worse by transforming to his land form. Or was it that he wasn’t transforming at all? Or had the injuries damaged something so severely that his land form couldn’t translate? Qui-Gon didn’t know and, at the moment, he didn’t care. All he knew and understood was pain and instinctively, desperately, he reached for Obi-Wan.

Things skittered around him but he couldn’t afford to pay attention to them. They couldn’t hurt him worse than he already hurt. Dimly he realized his screaming died away, not because the pain ceased, but because his throat could handle no more.

After a while, he could sense nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing but the pain. He couldn’t formulate thought and cried out to the Force to let him sink into oblivion. It refused to grant his request. He raged at it, begged it, bargained with it, threatened it, offered it anything it wanted, but the Force had no needs and continued to refuse Qui-Gon his.

He began to hate.

He hated his people for casting him out even though they found him useful. He hated his oceans for making him naïve and ignorant of the universe. He hated the Force for giving him so much but not giving what he needed when he needed it so much.

And he hated Obi-Wan, for giving him legs, for making him feel passion and love, and then leaving him here to die in unimaginable agony.

He embraced it, let it curl around his heart and seek the Light within him. He urged the Dark to snuff out the Light forever. It had brought him nothing but misery. Perhaps the Dark would do better by him. If not, he would get rid of it too.

He didn’t feel the sand spray around him when Obi-Wan hit his knees next to him. He didn’t feel Obi-Wan’s hands lay upon him and begin to heal. He was deaf to Obi-Wan’s pleas not to die, not to leave him, that he loved Qui-Gon, that he would find a way that they could be together for the rest of their lives.

The Light within Qui-Gon was stubborn. It fought back. It dueled the Dark much as Qui-Gon had fought the Chosen warriors. The Dark played dirty, but the Light played dirtier.

Obi-Wan’s love began to push at the hate. Qui-Gon’s love for Obi-Wan helped. His ears began to hear Obi-Wan speaking to him in fervent beseechings. He felt the soft fine sand under him. The pain began to recede, taking with it the hate. The Darkness howled at being thwarted once more and blinked out of existence within him.

Qui-Gon opened his eyes to look into his love’s blue-green orbs. Obi-Wan looked terrified. Qui-Gon had seen fear on Obi-Wan’s face before, but never true terror. He reached a trembling hand up to brush Obi-Wan’s cheek above the sunset colored beard.

“I thought you left me to die,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Only if I go with you,” Obi-Wan told him in return, gathering Qui-Gon up in a fierce embrace and burying his face in Qui-Gon’s limp, wet hair.

“Was that the Dark telling me to hate everyone and everything?” Qui-Gon asked in exhaustion.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan managed to say.

“You helped me defeat it.” Obi-Wan shook his head frantically. “Yes,” Qui-Gon argued.

“No, Qui-Gon. Only that which is inside you can do that.” Obi-Wan pulled away and settled Qui-Gon’s head in his lap, brushing hair out of Qui-Gon’s face. “Your Light wouldn’t give you up. It fought back. Yes, you almost embraced the Dark. I could feel it as I ran to you. You defeated it, though, all by yourself.” Obi-Wan’s smile turned proud. “So many face the Dark not knowing how strong it is. They miscalculate and they fall into darkness. While they may not be Sith, the damage they do is still great. All who use the Force meet this challenge at some point in their lives, whether they be young, middle aged, or ancient and believed to be wise. All of us. It is in that confrontation that we see the measure of ourselves and our true worth.”

Qui-Gon swallowed and averted his eyes from Obi-Wan’s tender expression. “I wanted the Dark to win,” he confessed brokenly, throat still raw from his screams of agony. “I demanded it kill the Light.”

Obi-Wan was silent for a long moment. “You remember I told you the Sith I fought gave me my knighthood?”

Puzzled by the turn in the conversation, Qui-Gon answered nonetheless. “Yes.”

“It defeated my master first. Early in the fight. My master is accounted the finest swordsman in the Order. No one defeats him unless he lets them. That Sith did so anyway. He did something I didn’t see, sent my master soaring off the place we were fighting on in the air. I couldn’t look to see if my master found safety. The Sith was on me, I was fighting for my life. Fear was crawling through my heart, into my throat. I could taste it and I wanted to wretch it was so foul. If this thing could defeat my master, what chance did I have? But I fought anyway. There was no other choice.”

Qui-Gon slid his gaze back to Obi-Wan’s face to see the other staring off into the distance, on another world and in another time.

“I was getting tired. He was so good and fast. He was everywhere. It was all I could do to just block his every move. He was wearing me down and we both knew it. He drew me into a place of his choosing. Once I realized what happened I tried to pull away but he put the pressure on me, maneuvering me around further into the trap.”

Obi-Wan went silent and was quiet for so long Qui-Gon finally prompted, “Then what happened?”

“He lowered his guard a moment. I thought it might be a trick but had to take the chance it wasn’t. It was, of course, and he pushed me into this deep hole. There was small protuberance. I landed on it with one foot and used the Force to catapult myself out of the hole. It was risky, I was tired, I wasn’t sure it would work. Either I would land back in the fight or I would fall into the abyss below. I used the Force to enhance my leap, somersaulted over him before he even registered what I’d done. As I landed, rather badly I might add, I sliced at him with my lightsaber, cutting him in half. He hadn’t even turned around, my move had been such a surprise to him. His two halves fell into the hole.”

Qui-Gon swallowed hard, ignoring the pain in his throat from doing it. “And your master?”

Obi-Wan gave a short laugh. “He was torn between being embarrassed, angry and proud. We finished helping our allies and returned home. He crowed my accomplishment to the Council, demanded that I be knighted immediately, and lectured when they balked that if killing a Sith Lord didn’t qualify me for knighthood what would?”

He looked down at Qui-Gon and quirked a grin. “They conceded the point and I was knighted.”

“The Dark you defeated was your fear,” Qui-Gon concluded.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan nodded. “From speaking with others who have succeeded as we have, the Dark comes to everyone in different ways. It just depends on what is inside you that it can take advantage of. Everyone has weaknesses, of course, there’s no such thing as perfection, but it’s controlling and accepting those weaknesses, working to overcome them that is the true battle against the Dark.”

Qui-Gon opened and closed his mouth, unable to think of anything to say while faced with Obi-Wan’s love and pride in both of their day’s accomplishments.

“Do you feel it?” Obi-Wan asked. Qui-Gon frowned, not understanding. “Stretch out with the Force. Can you feel it? The Dark, it’s gone.”

Tentatively, almost fearfully, Qui-Gon did so and found Obi-Wan was right. The animal life, both on land and in sea, were confused and muddled, but normal, natural. “Was the Dark trying to turn me in a last effort to survive here?” Qui-Gon asked in wonder.

“I think so, yes. I defeated its champions so it went after you to get revenge.” Obi-Wan’s arms tightened around Qui-Gon. “Why did you come on land?” There was no accusation, only curiosity.

“I was injured, bleeding. The predators were following me. I was weakening. I wouldn’t be able to hold them off for much longer. I felt it safer on land than in the water,” Qui-Gon confessed.

Obi-Wan nodded as if that were entirely reasonable. “How were you injured?”

Qui-Gon told him of the four warriors who claimed to be the Chosen of the Dark Side, the fight, how he defeated them, and his confusion on how he sustained his injury. Obi-Wan listened, gritting his teeth, but didn’t interrupt.

“Did you know there were clans around here?” Obi-Wan asked.

“No.”

Obi-Wan nodded, relaxing a bit. “It makes sense though. Whoever set this up would want someone to guard it. The question is _who_ set this up?”

Qui-Gon had no answer for Obi-Wan. “Are my legs injured like my tail was?”

Obi-Wan gave them a cursory glance. “No. Nice legs, a bit of hair, muscular and lean. One of these days they’ll be wrapped around my waist while I bring you to climax.” The words were said lightly but with lascivious leer.

“Does that mean…” Qui-Gon swallowed and hesitantly tried again. “Does that mean I can go with you to the stars?”

“Oh, I think so,” Obi-Wan told him with a wide grin. “And if my fellow Jedi object, I have no problem telling them where to stick it.”

Qui-Gon didn’t get the reference but he understood the intent. “We need to check the generator,” he said reluctantly. “And it’s almost dark. We’ve fought hard battles, you and I, we need to eat and rest to regain our strength in case the Dark comes back.”

“I don’t think we have to worry about that,” Obi-Wan told him, obligingly if reluctantly letting Qui-Gon go and pulling them both to their feet. “I think it’s running away with its tail tucked firmly behind its legs.”

It was another reference Qui-Gon didn’t get but instinctively knew meant the Dark was permanently defeated and would never come back. Good, he didn’t want the nasty thing on his world anymore.

* * *

It took another day for the generator to accumulate enough stored energy to power the communications array. Obi-Wan easily contacted the Jedi Temple, reported his distress and asked for their retrieval.

“Our retrieval?” Master Mace Windu asked. “Did you have a passenger with you, Master Kenobi?”

“I picked up a native. We’ve bonded. Deal with it now because I’m not going to put up with dealing with it later,” Obi-Wan told him cheerfully and then cut the transmission. He almost chortled as he imagined the bilious look that was probably on Mace’s face at the moment.

Faced with the prospect of not having a tail for much longer and sparingly in the future, Qui-Gon was spending a lot of time in his ocean. Sometimes Obi-Wan didn’t see his bondmate for hours on end but that was okay. They were in communication through the bond. Qui-Gon was quite chatty, in fact.

Half a day later, there was a loud beep from the communications hut and Obi-Wan ran to answer it. “Keep this transmission open so we can get a lock on your location,” ordered Mace.

“You came yourself?” Obi-Wan asked bemusedly.

Mace grumbled something Obi-Wan didn’t pick up. “Does your Nandian have any needs?”

“Clothes. He’s rather without at the moment. It doesn’t seem to bother him, or me, much, but I’m pretty sure a prude like you will have a heart attack,” teased Obi-Wan, though he was serious about Qui-Gon needing clothes.

There was a long-suffering sigh over the transmission. “I’m sure we can find something for..what gender?”

“Him. Very much a him,” Obi-Wan said cheekily. “More him than I’ve had in a long time.”

“Spare me your sexual exploits,” Mace groused in resignation. Obi-Wan laughed. “We’ll be there soon. Be ready.”

 _Qui-Gon, my love, it’s time._ Obi-Wan sent through their bond.

A spat of joy, nervousness, excitement and fear tripped back to him. _I’m coming,_ came the answer.

Obi-Wan waded out to where Qui-Gon couldn’t swim anymore and, when his love appeared, hauled him the rest of the way on shore. The transformation was quicker and less painful each time, they noted.

Obi-Wan enjoyed immensely the look of shock and surprise on Qui-Gon’s face when the rescue ship broke atmosphere. It settled half on the beach and half in the shallows, the landing platform lowering to reveal not only Mace Windu but Master Yoda and…Obi-Wan gulped, Master Dooku.

The three Jedi stared at Qui-Gon in various states of bemusement, disapproval and disconcertion. Qui-Gon stared back as if they were the most fascinating things he’d ever seen in his life. They probably were, which meant once Qui-Gon got to the Temple, his mind was going to be blown by the sheer variety of peoples who lived there.

Master Yoda stumped down, gimer stick in hand to offer balance of his small, ungainly, aged body. He closed his emerald green eyes and Obi-Wan could feel Yoda’s Force presence swirl around them. Qui-Gon shifted uncomfortably in Obi-Wan’s direction, tensing when the little green being’s eyes popped open and shone with approval and respect.

“Battle against the Dark Side fought here,” Yoda said gruffly.

“Yes, Master Yoda. It was a well spring. We fought separately against its influence and, in a last-ditch effort to destroy us, it sought out Qui-Gon. He gave the Darkness its final defeat, vanquishing it,” Obi-Wan reported, sending reassurance through their bond to Qui-Gon.

Master Yoda grunted and made his way to Qui-Gon, who hunched down to eye level with the diminutive being. Yoda caressed Qui-Gon’s face thoughtfully. “Strong in the Living Force you are, being of the ocean,” Yoda announced. “Never such have I felt before.”

Qui-Gon looked uncertainly at Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan smiled back encouragingly.

“I just do what it guides me to do,” Qui-Gon answered simply.

Yoda nodded as if he had given an initiate a complicated question and received the correct answer immediately and with little effort.

Obi-Wan glanced at his former master and Mace Windu. Mace’s narrowed brown-eyes gaze was taking them in, Obi-Wan’s bedraggled appearance, Qui-Gon’s nudity, and flitting his senses around their bond looking for weak points or doubts. He wouldn’t find any, of course, Obi-Wan knew, but allowed the inspection anyway without rebuking his fellow councilmember.

His former master was another story. Master Dooku was a hard one to read at the best of times. He kept his emotions tightly shielded and under control. Like now, his face was impassive unless expression was needed for whatever purpose it was intended to serve. It made Dooku seem cold and distant, but Obi-Wan knew that was untrue. Dooku was just a man of control and order. He didn’t begrudge people their emotions, good or bad, but he expected higher standards of himself and his apprentices. Obi-Wan didn’t know if Qui-Gon would find welcome or approval from Obi-Wan’s former master.

Mace stepped down the ramp, Dooku following behind him. They reached the sand and adjusted their walk imperceptibly as they sank into it. Obi-Wan bowed to them, earning him a swat with a gimer stick at having not bowed to Master Yoda, and straightened up.

“Surprise!” he grinned.

Dooku rolled his eyes at his former padawan’s antics but broke into an unaccustomed smile all the same. “I am glad to see you well, Obi-Wan,” he said gruffly, patting Obi-Wan on the shoulder with the only amount of affection the man ever showed.

“It wouldn’t have been so if not for Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan told them all. “May I present Qui-Gon of the clan Jinn and my bondmate.”

Qui-Gon’s blue eyes darted nervously from one Jedi Master to another.

“He lacks manners,” Dooku said shortly.

Qui-Gon flushed at that and tilted his head up proudly. Obi-Wan answered for him. “Well, until, what Qui-Gon, three days ago, four? We didn’t know he had legs. His tail is the color of my eyes and most impressive.”

All three Jedi Masters blinked at those rather bizarre statements. Dooku’s eyes turned assessing, reevaluating his initial impression of Qui-Gon. Mace pursed his lips and tilted his head forward. He and Yoda were communicating, but had shut Obi-Wan out of the mental exercise that linked councillors together for such private discussion.

“He cannot come,” Mace announced.

Obi-Wan shrugged. “All right. That’s fine. This island is rather large, it has fresh water, quite a bit of potential food sources. Qui-Gon in his natural state can eat fish raw and won’t suffer. I’ll get bored of fish and whatever else is on this island, but I’ve survived on worse.” He slipped his hand into Qui-Gon’s and gave a tug. “Bye!” Obi-Wan said, turning away with a lazy wave of his other hand.

Dooku gave a huff. “You’re an idiot, Windu. Obi-Wan, get back here.”

“I’m not leaving without Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan said, stopping but not turning around.

He could almost hear Mace grinding his teeth in agitation. Obi-Wan had called his bluff and everyone knew it.

Yoda grunted. “All on ship please. Hard travel is on my old bones. You are welcome among the Jedi, Qui-Gon. Master Windu, shut up.” Yoda was turning away as Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon faced them once more, stumped his way through the sandy beach and onto the ramp, shaking sand in disgust off his little bare feet before disappearing within.

Obi-Wan picked up his rucksack, hand still clasped tightly in Qui-Gon’s grip and marched them past Mace and Dooku. He smiled at Dooku’s amused look. The two of them slowed when they reached the ramp. Qui-Gon tested it carefully with one bare foot and settled it down tentatively. Then Qui-Gon looked back, out at the expanse of ocean, and Obi-Wan felt a wave of sadness through their bond.

“I know,” Obi-Wan told him softly. “But I promise, I will find a way to bring you back when I can. We’ll locate your clan, you can tell them of your adventures, negotiate new agreements between the star travelers and those of the ocean, be the marvel you’ve always been to them.”

Qui-Gon tore his gaze away from the ocean view to look at Obi-Wan. He leaned in a gave Obi-Wan a gentle, butterfly kiss before stepping one foot at a time to his, and their, future.

Finis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wolfiefics’s Headcanon: Anakin Falls to the Dark Side. Obi-Wan realizes too late that what the wellspring on Nandia showed him was a vision of the future, not a taunt to disconcert him. He and Qui-Gon run and head for Nandia. At first, they stay on the wellspring island, Obi-Wan well-provisioned and Qui-Gon happily returning to his ocean home, tail and all. But Darth Vader follows, the Force giving Obi-Wan ample warning. They have since contacted the various clans of the oceans and the combined elders and mystics have devised a way for Obi-Wan to live in the ocean, far away from Darth Vader and his stormtroopers. They make him one of them. His tail is as gloriously copper as his hair. Qui-Gon continually reminds him of how Qui-Gon was when he first got legs every time Obi-Wan complains about his swimming lessons. Qui-Gon also laughs when Obi-Wan makes faces when eating raw fish, even though he now has a system that can handle it. Vader and his troops try repeatedly to pierce Nandia’s oceans looking for Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon but fail every time. Finally, Sidious tells Vader to cease, that Kenobi is no longer a threat. The Empire rises…and falls. But Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon could really care less. They are safe and together. The Force is with them.


End file.
